


Ship's Code

by starandrea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, NaNoWriMo, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starandrea/pseuds/starandrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean saves Castiel after a crash that destroys her family, and for a long time the only thing that can distract Castiel from those memories is the sound of Dean's voice.  But Dean is a starship - from a race of organic ships that call themselves angels - and her voice isn't for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ship's Code

**Prologue**

The ship didn’t talk to humans.  That was what everyone told her.  Except for Anna, they said: it talks to Anna because it has to.  The ship and the captain spoke, and the rest of them did whatever Anna told them to.

Castiel might have believed it.  She’d been dying when they first met, and hearing the ship speak could have been a hallucination.  She had no reason to believe the ship spoke a language she could understand, so she decided to attribute the words _Castiel is saved_ to her own imagination.

Until it happened again.

Castiel didn’t make a habit of dying, but space was an unforgiving environment and she did tend toward recklessness.  Or so they told her.  They said a lot of things during her first days aboard a living ship.  She had never been good at listening.

So when she stood at the edge of the void and heard someone say, _Castiel has a death wish,_ she ignored it.  She wasn’t approved to be out here, between shell and ship, trying to fix something that everyone said would grow back.  It’s organic, they told her, it will heal.

She was organic too.  She had lost everyone in the crash this ship had saved her from, and she still wished she’d gone down with them.  What good was healing if there was no one left to care about the break?

The voice said, _Well that’s fucking depressing,_ and she paused.  Castiel didn’t bother with swears.  They impeded effective communication, and she found it highly unlikely that she would resort to them in the privacy of her own mind.  Which meant that the odds of the voice being external had just increased.

“Hello?” she said aloud.  The air was thinner here, and her voice sounded odd to her ears.

There was no reply.

She went back to the repair.  If she was hallucinating, then her concentration was already impaired.  Probably her judgment as well, but it would be difficult to make a reliable comparison given its current erratic state.  She was well aware that her current choices were not those of a rational person.

 _You have to be touching me,_ the voice said.  _Also, go back inside.  I can regrow that myself._

The ship.  She was hallucinating the ship’s voice.  Not entirely without precedent, given the way the rest of the crew seemed to talk about the vessel.  Most of them said they didn’t expect a response – only one of them was Anna – but surely some of them imagined it anyway.

 _Aw, how adorable,_ the voice said.  _You think you’re imagining me._

“If you’re real,” Castiel said, “I could use some more light here.”

The skin beneath her fingers lit up: a bright, phosphorescent blue that made her step back in surprise.  In so doing, of course, the contact ended and the words stopped coming.  When she held up her hand to study it, she couldn’t help noticing that her own skin had paled from the cold.

That was the last thing she remembered when she woke up in a medical pod some indeterminate amount of time later.  Cold hands, ragged breath, and blue like fire in front of her eyes.  She wondered if they would be so quick to release her this time – so much carelessness must at least warrant observation.

Someone appeared next to her before she could sit up.  She did it anyway, feeling her skin burn and twist without tearing.  Not overexposed, then.  Too bad.  That might have involved induced unconsciousness.  She liked anything that made her stop thinking.

“Anna says the ship protected you.”  The woman speaking to her was a doctor.  She thought the name was Hester.  “After seeing your results, I think she’s right.  What concerns me is what you need protecting from.”

“Space is dangerous,” Castiel said.  Her voice came out rough but understandable and she didn’t bother to clear her throat.  She had no real desire to continue.

“You are dangerous,” Hester corrected.  “You shouldn’t have been out there at all, never mind without a suit and alone.  Do you want to be on suicide watch, Castiel?  Because I’ll tell you right now, that’s the way you’re heading.  And it’s not fun.”

“Clearly you don’t suspect me of self-endangerment,” Castiel said, flexing her hands against the side of the pod.  “Or you wouldn’t warn me before doing it.”

“If you wanted to kill yourself, there are faster ways,” Hester said.  “You want to be useful.  So Anna’s going to assign you ship duties until we return to port.”

Castiel stared at the floor, at the place where vines grew loose and wild until they were turned back at the boundary of the isolation chamber.  “It was my understanding that I already have ship duties.”

There was no free ride on a ship like this.  Not unless the ship itself decreed it.

“You’re not doing them,” Hester said bluntly.  As far as she knew, everything Hester said was blunt.  “Anna will assign you new ones.  Perhaps they will be more suited to your temperament.”

She didn’t expect they would.  She was surprised that anyone pretended to care.  She was a passenger on this ship, bereaved or not, and passengers were expected to work.

Hester closed the isolation chamber behind her when she left, so Castiel waited.  It wasn’t like she had anything else to do.  The passage of time stretched and warped in the wake of things she cared about: unreliable and inconsequential.  She wasn’t sure how long she sat there.

Eventually Anna came, and Castiel was surprised.  There wasn’t any need for the ship’s captain to pass on new duties in person.  And it seemed unlikely that Castiel was causing enough trouble to warrant intervention from the top.  Yet here she stood, as apparently concerned as she’d been the first time they met.

“Castiel,” she said.  “My ship tells me you’re trying to kill yourself.”

“There is little point in my continued existence,” Castiel said.

“I don’t agree,” Anna said.  “But as long as you’re bent on disregarding your own safety with unsuited EVA, I have an engineering team that could use your help.”

Castiel looked up.  She hadn’t expected that, and not just because most people had an irritating tendency to value life at any cost.  “That sounds like skilled labor,” she said.

“I guess you’ll have to learn some skills,” Anna replied.

**Commencement**

The graduation banner read GOOD LUCK on one side and GO AWAY on the other.  Castiel had walked past it 57 times this week, and she expected this time to be her last.  The single bag that remained in her room contained personal identification, mission specs from the ship she’d requested – or been requested by – and little else.

What she didn’t expect was to find her soon-to-be captain waiting outside her door.  She didn’t bother checking the time.  “I’m not late,” she said.  She was due aboard ship six hours from now.  “Why are you here?”

“To see you graduate,” Anna said.  “It’s not every day someone I personally recommended for the Academy comes through.”

“No,” Castiel agreed.  “Given the cyclical nature of graduation requirements, I expect the frequency couldn’t be more than once a year.”

Anna looked more amused than anything.  “I don’t recommend people for the Academy, Castiel.”

“History suggests otherwise,” Castiel said.  “You did it two years ago.”

“And here I am now,” Anna said.  “I didn’t mean to slow you down.  I don’t think there’s much time before the ceremony.”

“I don’t plan to attend,” Castiel said, frowning.  “We ship out today.”

“Tight turnaround,” Anna said.  “Sorry about that.  We were supposed to leave two days ago, but someone was adamant that you get a graduation ceremony.  If not any of the parties that follow.”

“I have no interest in parties,” Castiel told her.  “Nor do I need a ceremony to tell me what I already know.  I’m ready to leave as soon as I clear my room.”

“You actually do need a ceremony,” Anna said.  “Dean wants a picture.  It’s not negotiable.”

The purpose of Anna’s presence was suddenly clear, if difficult to comprehend.  Castiel stared at her for a long moment before saying, “Surely you have better things to do.”

Anna shrugged.  “When my ship wants something?  No.  I really don’t.”

Castiel was familiar with her ship’s persistence on a personal level.  After two years of academic immersion, she was also professionally aware of what the captain’s job entailed.  Keeping the ship happy was a significant part of it.

Which was how she found herself outside, beneath a weak sun on a warm day, taking pictures and singing “Ships of Heaven” with most of her graduating class.  Once Anna had assured herself Castiel would be present, she’d missed most of the ceremony herself.  She turned up at the end, though, snapping a picture of Castiel with Rachel and sending it to orbit before either of them could object.

“Why is she here?” Rachel hissed when Anna’s attention was taken by another student.  Graduate, now.  “I thought we didn’t have to report until this evening.”

“We don’t,” Castiel said quietly.  As quietly as she could over the chatter of excitement around them, the shouts of _goodbye_ and _see you later_ and _I thought we’d never make it._   “Apparently the ship has taken an interest in us.”

“The ship has taken an interest in you,” Rachel retorted.  “Who else gets messages from an actual ship in service while they’re studying?  Don’t think I don’t know that the only reason I got assigned right away is because you requested me.”

“I didn’t request you,” Castiel said.  Someone jostled her and she stepped into Rachel to compensate.  Rachel didn’t pull away.  “I only mentioned that you were the best security student in the program.”

“After you,” Rachel finished.

“I came to it with practical experience,” Castiel said.

“And a ship that calls you every night to help you with your homework,” Rachel said.  It was a gross exaggeration, and Castiel saw no reason to correct something that must have been meant as a joke.  There had been some nights she hadn’t heard from the ship at all, and many of their conversations were necessarily brief.

 _Kill yourself yet?_ the ship would ask.  Castiel would point out that she obviously had not, and the ship would flicker a spectrum of blue through her screen that seemed to be its own equivalent of laughter.  _Stay out of trouble,_ it would tell her.  _I want you back when you’re done._

And that would be the end of it.  If Castiel had sometimes mentioned things she was studying, it was only because she expected the ship to correct any erroneous information.  Her classmates occasionally came up in the course of the explanation.  Rachel more than most, given that she’d been Castiel’s roommate the entire first year and was her undisputed peer the second.

Castiel hadn’t recommended anyone, but she could see how it might look that way to someone who was aware of their conversations.

“Castiel!”  It was Inias’ voice that made her turn, but Anna’s red hair caught her attention for a fraction of a second.  The ship’s captain was holding her pager to the sky in the traditional signal for a pickup.  The gesture was out of place here, where the ship clearly couldn’t land, and Castiel frowned as her gaze moved to Inias.

“Hi,” Inias said, managing to sound breathless sliding into the tiny space between them.  “I hear you’re shipping out tonight.  Can you give Hester a message for me?”

Of course Inias knew where they were going.  Everyone did; ships in service were rare enough that students could memorize the list and name the current captains.  Castiel and Rachel were two of only twelve to be assigned immediately on graduation.

“Certainly,” Castiel said, although she doubted Hester would be interested in speaking to her on her return.  Much of the ship’s crew had been wary of Castiel two years ago, aware of her self-destructive tendencies and careful not to get involved.  She had appreciated their distance at the time.  Now she wondered how she would function as one of them if all they knew of her was the broken survivor they’d found.

“Tell her that Mom says hi,” Inias was saying, “and we’ll see her at Elkensin.”

Castiel waited, but that appeared to be the entirety of the message.  She raised an eyebrow, because it was nothing that couldn’t be conveyed faster and more efficiently some other way.  “Hester must already know these things,” she said.

Inias shrugged.  “It means more when you hear it face to face.  Plus it proves we’re thinking of her even when we’re not talking to her, and she forgets sometimes.”

Inias was good at understanding humanity and unexpectedly adept at applying it to ship relations.  Castiel assumed that the next time there was call for such a skill, Inias would be the first one assigned.  “I will tell her,” she said.

“Thanks!”  Inias grinned at both of them.  “Good luck on Anna’s ship!”

Castiel wondered how long it would be before she stopped associating “good luck” with “go away.”  She said it anyway, because Inias no doubt expected it.  “Good luck to you as well.”

Rachel leaned in close as Inias left, turning as though she was thinking of something else entirely.  “And go away,” she whispered in Castiel’s ear.

Castiel smiled.  It was no secret that Rachel found Inias’ ability to relate to absolutely everyone as irritating as it was unfathomable.  Inias mostly left her alone, which Castiel could only guess was another manifestation of the ability to understand others.

“You just smiled,” Rachel told her.  “First time all morning.  Glad to be leaving?”

“I was only reflecting on our compatibility,” Castiel replied.  “My association with the phrases ‘good luck’ and ‘go away’ is now similarly ingrained.”

“Oh, we’re still compatible?”  Rachel was giving her an odd look.  “I thought that was just something you said when we had to share a room.”

“We may do so again aboard ship,” Castiel said.  “Crew space is limited, and you would be my first choice for roommate.”

“Would I?” Rachel asked.  “The ship likes you, Castiel.  I’m pretty sure you can get a private space if you want it.”

Castiel frowned.  She had no evidence that the ship either liked or disliked her, and it wasn’t relevant either way.  “I have no use for privacy.  And given my history with Anna’s crew, I expect they will prefer me to be in company whenever possible.”

Rachel knew, of course.  Castiel didn’t keep her past a secret, though she didn’t see any reason to share it either.  It was there in the records for anyone who cared to look: the crash that had destroyed her family, the ship that had rescued her when she’d been incapable of calling for help.  She owed a debt to the ships-in-service program and she meant to repay it.

It was as good a reason for going on as any.

“Okay,” Anna’s voice interrupted.  “So, parties?  Are we doing parties?”

Castiel and Rachel looked up at the same time, and Castiel saw Anna’s expression shift to something lighter.  “So,” she continued before they could answer, “I’m sorry to be blunt about this, but we’re all going to be living in pretty close quarters.  Are you together?”

Castiel blinked at her.  “Yes?” she said.

“No,” Rachel said at the same time.  When Castiel looked at her, she said, “Romantically, Castiel.  She means, are we involved in a romantic relationship.”

“No,” Castiel said.  “Should we be?”

“Is it in question?” Anna asked.  “Because ship life can get strained fast if the crew doesn’t communicate.”

“I have no trouble communicating with Rachel,” Castiel said.

“We get along just fine,” Rachel agreed.

“You said yes,” Anna reminded Castiel.  “Why?”

There were people streaming past all around them, and Castiel had paid them little mind until Rachel started to eye them warningly.  She knew that look: Rachel thought other people were listening to something that didn’t concern them.  Castiel didn’t know what about this needed to be private, but Rachel had always been more protective of her than was strictly necessary.

“You asked if we’re together,” Castiel said.  “We are physically together.”

“At this moment,” Rachel added.  “We’re standing in the same place.  That’s all she means.”

“I’m aware of the sexual connotation,” Castiel said.  “I didn’t realize it was implied in your question.”

“No,” Anna said, shaking her head.  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.  Will you be all right sharing quarters for a few months?  We have a policy of separating introverts and extraverts, but right now we don’t have the room to enforce it.”

Castiel looked at Rachel and found her looking back.  “We haven’t had any trouble sharing a room in the past,” she said.

Rachel shook her head.  “No, we’re fine.  We were just talking about it, actually.  Castiel thinks you want her watched.”

“We do,” Anna agreed.  “It’s your first time on a deep space mission since you left us, and Dean doesn’t have time to watch you constantly.  The rest of the crew will be looking out for you too, at least at first.”

Castiel nodded.  She’d passed every psych eval they could throw at her – but she’d passed them right after her rescue, too.  She’d always assumed anyone talented enough to need a psych eval was smart enough to lie on them.  The questions weren’t subtle.

Rachel was bristling.  In her defense, no doubt.  “Why did you request her if she’s basically on probation?” she demanded.  “There are plenty of graduates without a history of trauma; why not one of them?”

“My ship doesn’t want any of them,” Anna said.  “My ship asked for one person.  The Academy said no, too dangerous, and Dean had a tantrum.  You see the end result.”

“Why both of us?” Castiel asked.  If communication was so important, they might as well know the whole story.

Anna shrugged.  “It’s possible someone lied about your relationship with Rachel in order to get the Academy to approve your emotional records for the isolation of deep space.”

Castiel considered this.  “If this is an example of shipboard communication,” she said at last, “I think I’m going to like it.  This is much more straightforward than our classes have been.”

At her side, she felt Rachel relax, and Anna actually laughed.  “Yes,” Anna agreed.  “It’s not for everyone, but the ship sets the standard.  Mine’s very open.”

“Why do you call the ship Dean?” Rachel asked.

“Personal request,” Anna said.  “I’m sure you know enough not to use it unless the ship asks you to.”

“Anael,” someone said, and Anna excused herself.

Rachel took the opportunity to whisper in Castiel’s ear again.  “Why does the ship want you enough to lie?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel whispered back.  “Are we in danger of romantic involvement?”

Rachel laughed out loud, tipping her head away to smile at Castiel.  “I don’t think so.  If you’re interested, I’ll consider it, but otherwise I think we do just fine the way we are.”

Castiel nodded.  “I agree,” she said.  “So we didn’t lie, but apparently the ship did.”

Rachel leaned in again.  “Maybe the question we should ask,” she murmured, “is whether or not you’re in danger of romantic involvement with Anna’s ship.”

Castiel had been asked that question before, although only in jest.  “I don’t think so,” she said.  “It’s my understanding that ships don’t form romantic attachments with humans.”

“If they did,” Rachel said, eyeing her curiously.  “Would you consider it?”

Castiel thought of the nights she’d lain in bed, listening to the synthesized voice of the ship and trying to remember what it felt like to hear the words through her hands.  She wasn’t interested in someone she could hold.  But she wouldn’t mind having something she could follow.

“Yes,” she said.  “If the ship proposed such a thing, I would consider it.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Anna said, rejoining their conversation like she’d been there all along.  “So no parties for you?  Or were you waiting for me?  We should at least pretend to go to a party so I can take another picture and get my ship off your back.”

“Why is the ship so insistent that we participate in graduation activities?” Castiel wanted to know.

“I’m also going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Anna said.  “But I’ll answer it later.  Where are we going?”

They ended up at a cafe near campus, eating a lunch that Anna told them to enjoy.  It was on her, for one thing, and she claimed they wouldn’t have food this good again for a while.  Castiel was looking forward to having fewer choices when it came to food, but she didn’t say so.

Anna made them scrunch around the table when they were done, clustered together in front of the windows while she took another picture.  “There,” she said, pushing them away again.  “That should satisfy the ‘record you having fun’ requirement.”

“You were going to tell us why such a requirement exists,” Castiel reminded her.  She didn’t know how Anna had so much time to spend with them, but perhaps a ship that was supposed to leave two days ago had created a schedule with some holes.

“Right,” Anna said.  “Let’s go outside.”

They headed for the water at Anna’s direction, and Castiel wondered if it was for the view or the white noise.  It was hard to imagine what Anna might have to say that would require such a level of secrecy.  On the other hand, her own academic career had apparently been more scandalous than she knew, so she wasn’t the one to judge.

“Here’s the thing,” Anna said abruptly, turning to follow the water without stopping.  “Castiel, my ship has a crush on you.  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but everyone else has, so someone has to say it.”

She didn’t pause long enough for either of them to comment before she added, “Rachel, you’ve been an excellent student and you’ll be a sought-after graduate, but you wouldn’t have been recruited right out of school.  We requested you to alleviate fears that Castiel is crazy enough to crush on my ship in return.”

Castiel was still trying to decide if “crush” meant what she thought it did when Rachel said, “I admit I’m not entirely surprised to hear that.”

“Which part?” Anna asked.  She sounded more amused than curious.

Anna often sounded amused, Castiel thought.  She wondered if that was a character trait, or if it was something about being around Castiel.  She had no idea how Anna sounded when she wasn’t around, after all.

“All of it,” Rachel said.  “Although I’m surprised to hear anyone admit the part about the crush out loud.”

“Could someone define ‘crush’ for me?” Castiel said.  “In this particular instance?”

Neither of them said anything until Anna sighed.  “I guess that’s fair,” she said.  “I should have used a different word.  The ship dotes on you.  You talk to my ship more than most members of my crew, and we live together.”

She was silent for a long moment, but Castiel had no idea how to respond.  She waited, and finally Anna continued.  “I used the word ‘crush’ because my ship is affectionate toward you, and that’s… pretty unusual.  I know you don’t have anyone else, and there’s some concern that you might… return that affection.  In a way that’s inappropriate.”

“Concern from who?” Castiel asked, frowning.  She wouldn’t have said she felt affectionate toward Anna’s ship, but she was certainly grateful to it.  She appreciated it in a way she didn’t appreciate other people.  But it was a ship.  It was an alien species, rare and powerful and frankly amazing.  Who didn’t appreciate them?

“Higher ups at the Academy,” Anna said.  “They know Dean’s been calling you.  Trust me when I say no other student gets regular bedtime stories from a ship in service.”

“I’m hardly available during the day,” Castiel said.  Logically, she thought, but it made Anna scoff.

“Not the best argument,” Anna said.  “The fact that you and Rachel are so close, though.  We used that as a counter.  Regular human relationships make you look more balanced.”

Castiel looked at Rachel.  She was smiling, so Castiel assumed she wasn’t insulted.  “I don’t understand the problem,” she admitted.  “But if you say you’ve fixed it and Rachel approves, then that’s enough for me.”

“Have we fixed it?” Anna wanted to know.  “It’s not just other people’s perceptions, Castiel.  It’s you and what you expect from my ship.  Dean’s a little off-center, but I don’t want anyone else.  I’m not losing my best friend to you.”

Castiel stared at her.  “Do you think I’m going to take over your ship?”

Anna stared right back.  “Do you want to?”

“No,” Castiel said.  “I joined the Academy because you and your ship gave me something to live for.  You were all I had then, and you’re all I have now.  I have no intention of sabotaging that.”

Anna nodded once, and something that might have been relief curved the corners of her mouth.  “You’re right, you know.”  It was definitely a smile.  “You will fit in.  You’re just as honest as all of us.”

“Are you still pretending you didn’t hear the part about considering a romantic attachment?” Rachel asked, and this time Anna laughed.

“No,” she said.  “I’m done pretending.  Castiel, if my ship propositions you, are you going to say yes?”

Castiel tilted her head.  “It depends on the proposition.”

“Of course it does,” Anna said with a smile.  “So let’s go.  We’re two days behind schedule already, and I have people who actually get bored on earth.  They’ve been running loose on the orbital stations for hours.  I’ll be lucky if none of them racked up bans while I was down here.”

**Deep Space**

The afternoon passed in a strange blur of familiarity and surprise.  The quarters she would share with Rachel already had their things stowed inside, and they had a single moment to leave items on their person there before being swept up in a working tour of the departure process.  Castiel didn’t like the speed, the noise, or the lack of clear expectation, but it did distract her from things she’d rather forget.

She hadn’t realized how strong the memories would be until she found herself alone, left in peace for the few minutes she’d requested before the evening meal.  The ship was long past the edge of the solar system, cruising toward the nearest jump point, and there was noise through the wall membrane before Castiel could make herself sit down.  Rachel.

“Hi,” Rachel said, brushing the door aside to beam in at her.  “Sorry, Anna says you have to come to dinner with me.  Want me to stand out here and pretend I’m with you while you meditate or whatever?”

Rachel’s energy had skyrocketed the moment they set foot on the ship.  Castiel had never seen her so enthusiastic.  She was starting to think the woman’s sedate exterior at the Academy had been a clever disguise, designed for the sole purpose of getting herself recruited.

Castiel took a deep breath, because she couldn’t meditate right now and that shouldn’t be so frightening.  “No,” she said.  “That’s fine.  I’m ready to eat.”

Most of the crew ate together, and Castiel wondered if Anna let them adjust their schedules based on personality as well.  The ones who were there seemed very outgoing.  Even with her, she noticed: they asked how she’d been, what she’d enjoyed at the Academy – if anything – and what they were supposed to do with Rachel.

It was more attention than she’d ever received on Anna’s ship, and she didn’t know how to handle it.  Rachel ended up answering most of the questions for her.  Rachel didn’t seem to mind, and it made everyone else laugh, which Castiel hoped was a sign of goodwill rather than derision.

By the time it was over, she was too tired to care.  She was glad that Anna’s welcome speech was short.  She was glad, too, that she was excused from the party as long as Rachel left with her.  She felt bad for taking Rachel away from something she obviously enjoyed but it was too loud.  Too busy.  Too everything for Castiel right now.

She fell into her hammock as soon as got back to their quarters.  She didn’t want to talk.  She didn’t want to listen.  She didn’t want to think about anything; she just wanted to be unconscious.  It was always easier to cope in the morning.

It was easier to cope on ships that didn’t talk.  The ship hadn’t called her.  Why would it: she was here.  It was mechanical.  She’d never heard of alien ships, organic and intelligent and peaceful in their pact to carry humans between the stars.  Her family operated a vessel they were proud of and they didn’t make mistakes.

Castiel was still falling.  Fire competed for air, stealing their oxygen, sputtering hungrily when the supply ran low.  The crushing impact of rock and hull, twisted metal and pressure she couldn’t escape.  Her family was dying and she didn’t understand, she would never understand why anyone went into space.

She came awake with a gasp that should have been a cry – she might have cried out, except Rachel was asleep.  Rachel didn’t sleep through her nightmares, as a general rule.  She hadn’t at the Academy.  Maybe she did here, where the ambient noise was higher and the activities of the day were more draining.

Castiel got up.  She left their quarters and walked, passing only other person on her way to the edge of the shell.  Someone whose name she should remember but didn’t, who nodded to her like she was normal, not a crazy barefoot woman acting out dreams she didn’t want to have.

The ship wasn’t blue when she got there, and she thought she was still dreaming because everything she could see was orange.  The skin under the shell looked orange, glowing bright and fiery and dangerous.  It was hard to breathe.  That was the thin air, she told herself, not the fire.  The flames didn’t burn; they couldn’t be real.

Her first footstep into fire came with the ship’s voice in her head.  _Castiel,_ it said warningly.  _You march your ass back to bed or I’m calling Anna right now._

“It doesn’t matter,” she said.  “You’re not real.”

_Wow, I can see two years of education did you a lot of good._

“You didn’t call me,” she said.

_Is that what this is about?  Geez, I’m sorry for giving you time to settle in.  Go back inside._

She thought she was sitting, now, but she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there.  Her hands and her feet were pressed up against the skin of the ship.  She was freezing cold and it was the best thing she hadn’t been able to feel in a long time.  

 _You can call_ me, _you know._ The colors around her were brightening, turning yellow and gold and she thought maybe she wasn’t on fire after all.  If the ship was burning she shouldn’t be so cold.  _I’m right here._

But I couldn’t feel you, she wanted to say.  She had listened to this ship’s stories for two years and they had been nothing more than words, enough to bridge the distance but not enough to change her mind.  Not enough to stop the thoughts that invaded her mind.

 _It wasn’t your fault,_ the ship said, and she closed her eyes.  The ship was louder than she was: bigger, more powerful.  Differences that were muted into nonexistence by the computer’s synthesized voice.  When Castiel felt the thought pouring through her hands and into her head, she felt nothing else.  She thought nothing else but what the ship was thinking.

 _It wasn’t your fault,_ the ship repeated.  _Castiel, you have to go back in.  If you die it’ll be_ my _fault and no one will tell me it wasn’t._

Anna was coming.  The ship didn’t have to tell her, she just knew.  She should move, get up, prove that she could keep herself alive without someone watching her every second.  But she was so cold.  There were spots in front of her eyes when she tried to stand.  She could hear the roaring in her ears, the burning in her chest.  She knew she didn’t have enough air.

 _I’m sorry,_ she thought.  She might have said it out loud.  _I’m not your fault._

She felt the ship move underneath her and she thought she was falling but the voice was gone.  Her hands ached.  Her feet felt like her nerves were on fire.  Like they were warming up, she realized distantly.  She was breathing, gasping in air as the blackness receded from her vision, and she’d made it.  She was back inside the shell.

Hester got to her before Anna did.  “Is it pain?” she was asking when Castiel could make out the words.  “Do you want to feel pain?  Because there are safer ways to hurt yourself.”

Of course she didn’t want to feel pain.  She didn’t want to feel anything.  Especially now, when her skin was burning and she was alone and nothing really mattered except not having to deal with it.  With any of it.  “Can you help me sleep?” she mumbled, her tongue thick in her mouth.

“Yes,” Hester said.  “Convince me you need it.”

“I have nightmares,” Castiel said, trying not to stumble over the words.  Everyone had nightmares.  Nothing she could imagine hurt as much as what she lived through.

“Have you been in space since you left us?” Hester asked.

Castiel had expected her to scoff, to shake her head.  To say that wasn’t enough.

“Yes,” she managed.

“Overnight?” Hester pressed.

Castiel shook her head.

Anna showed up wearing something that could only be pajamas, and suddenly Castiel wondered why Hester was on call.  They crouched beside her at the edge of the biosphere, the hospitable part of the shell that kept them alive, and neither of them seemed particularly surprised.  “Did you expect me to do this?” she blurted out.

Anna and Hester didn’t look at each other, and somehow that made it less insulting.  “Dean woke me up,” Anna said.  “Apparently you got yourself back inside, so I think we should count that as progress.”

“I think you should wear a bell,” Hester grumbled, but she didn’t say it with any great conviction.

“Inias had a message for you,” Castiel said.  “Your mother says hi, and they’ll see you at Elkensin.”

Hester stared at her for a long moment, and Castiel drew in a deep breath.  It didn’t hurt when she exhaled.  Her feet cramped with pins and needles when she tried to curl her toes, and it was so normal that she clenched her fingers.  Her hands seized up too.  Hester must have recognized the expression, because she set her things down and reached for Castiel’s hand.

Anna took the other one.  They pressed warmth into tingling nerves and the pain only increased.  Castiel flinched away instinctively but they didn’t let go.  She tried to breathe through it.  She was lucky this time.  She shouldn’t have been out there at all, and she didn’t want to turn around and go back.  Not yet.

Maybe Anna was right.  Maybe that was progress.

“Flashback?” Anna asked as her fingers relaxed.  “Did you go into space while you were with the Academy?”

“No extended trips,” Hester said.  She let go of Castiel’s hand, touching each of her feet in turn and shaking her head.  “I have to put this in her file.”

“Seal it for shipboard use only until she leaves,” Anna said.  “We don’t need people monitoring the crew from a distance.”

“I knew what I was doing,” Castiel said.  “Do not endanger yourselves for my sake.”

“You’re confusing us with you,” Hester told him.  “Stop trying to spacewalk without a suit.”

“Do you want to talk to Dean?” Anna asked suddenly.  “Is that what you’re doing?  Dean says you were waiting for a call and you didn’t get one.”

Castiel shook her head, opening and closing a fist because she could.  She really was fine.  She could get up and walk away.  Except that this was her ship now too, and this was her crew.  She didn’t just owe them.  They could ask things of her.  She had nothing if she didn’t have their approval.

“The computer can imitate Dean’s voice,” Anna was saying.  “You can talk to each other here the same way you did at the Academy.”

“It’s not real,” Castiel muttered.

She shouldn’t have said that, that was what she told the ship.  She didn’t tell other people.  She didn’t make Hester sit back, carefully, not looking at Anna in a way that was almost as obvious as doing it would have been.

“Castiel,” Anna said.

“I don’t want to think!” Castiel shouted, surprising even herself.  “When the ship talks to me I can’t hear myself anymore!  That’s all it is!”

Anna paused, and this time she and Hester did look at each other.  Like maybe they wanted to agree that this was different, and Castiel wouldn’t care what they thought except she had to.  If she wanted to be here then she had to care.

She hated caring.

“That makes sense to me,” Anna said.  She hesitated again, and when Castiel looked up she shrugged a little.  “To be honest, I don’t really see anything wrong with it.”

“Aside from exposure to the vacuum of space,” Hester said.  “I have a problem with that.”

“It’s not hard vacuum,” Anna said, then lifted her hands in self-defense when Hester glared at her.  “Sorry.  Bad time to joke.”

“I’m not helpless,” Castiel said.  “I just did something stupid.”

“Well, you do this particular stupid thing a lot,” Anna said.  “We need to find a substitute.  What did you do when you were at the Academy?”

She’d listened to the ship’s messages over and over again.  “The nightmares weren’t as bad at the Academy,” she said.  Hester had already guessed that much, and if that was enough then she didn’t see any reason to share more.

“I can give you something for the nightmares,” Hester said.  “It won’t help you fall asleep or stay that way; it’ll only suppress your dreams.  And it’s temporary.  You can’t take it forever, but it might get you through the first week or two.”

Castiel nodded.  All she wanted right now was to make this end.  She should have said something, she should have woken Rachel.  The numbness was gone and in its place was an ache that made her wish she could cry.  She knew she wouldn’t, and somehow that made it worse.

“Castiel,” Anna said.  “Is security going to work for you?  You were with engineering when we had you last.  That’s a big change.”

Security was what she did.  She had always been a soldier first, and questioning that had resulted in the deaths she was supposed to prevent.  “It will work,” she said.  “It’s what I do.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Anna said.  “The Academy is just a course of study.  It’s not carved in stone.”

“I am,” she said quietly.

There was a quiet moment, and then Anna said, “You want to talk about that?”

Castiel shook her head.  Her fate was already written; there was nothing else to say.  She would discover it as it unfolded.  Just like everyone else.

“All right,” Anna said.  “Hester, do you need to keep her tonight?”

“She has to be under observation,” Hester said.

Anna must have reacted somehow.  Castiel was looking down, but she heard Hester continue when she hadn’t expected her to.  “If she dies, even accidentally, we’re blacklisted for years.  You know the ship won’t take it.  If the ship drops out of service, we’re done.  So yes, I need to keep her tonight.”

“Castiel,” Anna said.  She sounded resigned.  “You think you can sleep in isolation?”

“It doesn’t have to be isolation,” Hester said.  “I’m almost done for the night.  You can stay with me.”

She didn’t want to stay with Hester, but she was aware that her options were limited.  So she said, “Thank you,” even as Anna spoke over her.

“Or you could stay with me,” Anna said.  “I have more space, and if you want to talk to Dean…”  She trailed off, and the look she exchanged with Hester had officially reached the level of aggravating.  “Well.  You could stay with me.”

“I don’t want to talk to Dean,” Castiel said.  She was too tired to pretend she didn’t know the ship’s name, not polite enough not to use it.  “I just want to sleep.  If Hester has medication that will help, I have no need of the ship to babysit me.”

“The ship likes to babysit you.”  Anna’s voice was sharp.  “The ship is annoyed with me for not mentioning it before, which I think is funny given said ship’s general stinginess when it comes to offering opinions or advice.”

Castiel couldn’t tell if the tone was directed at her or the ship.  Was the ship even listening?  It could be, she knew, but why would it?  Students tended to worry about privacy on ships in service until they realized how little the ships cared.  Castiel had always appreciated that apathy.

“Very well,” Hester said, like it had all been decided.  “Your roommate’s paging me, I assume to report you missing.  Too bad she’s such a heavy sleeper.”

“She isn’t,” Castiel said.

Hester just shook her head.  “I’ll be by in a few minutes with something to help keep you from dreaming.  Watch out for symptoms of hypothermia, frostbite, decompression sickness.  You know the drill by now.”

Those weren’t the symptoms she would have worried about.  But it occurred to her that Hester had followed through on her threat from so long ago: she was finally under suicide watch.  No one had even bothered to tell her.  She guessed they were distracting her with minor symptoms while they grappled with the major ones behind her back.

She wished them good luck.  She’d been struggling with those symptoms every day since the crash.

“This way,” Anna was saying.

Castiel did her best not to look back.  Everything she’d said was true: it wasn’t the ship she was listening for, she was sure of it.  It was just a cessation of her own thoughts.  Presumably any telepath could offer the same thing.  She just didn’t trust any of them enough to ask.

She trusted the ship because it had rescued her, and that seemed reasonable enough.  She trusted Anna, and the rest of the crew, because they’d taken her back.  She knew one of the engineers was a telepath – why hadn’t she ever asked them for help?

“Do you want to talk?” Anna asked as they made their way along cramped paths toward the center of the ship.

“No,” Castiel said without thinking.  Then she realized that she was answering the question she thought Anna had asked, rather than the one her words had actually shaped.  “Yes,” she amended.  “But perhaps not to you.”

She could hear Anna’s smile in her voice.  “That’s honest, I guess.”

“Wouldn’t any telepath be able to do the same thing Dean does?” Castiel blurted out.  _Why don’t I seek them out?  Why have I tried so hard to get back here?  Why did I let you make me leave in the first place?_

“What, speak the way the ship does?”  Anna’s subtle correction didn’t pass unnoticed, and Castiel winced.  That was twice now she’d called the ship Dean, and she really wasn’t allowed.  Anna would be within her rights to say something much sharper.  Castiel assumed the ship itself would object, the next time they spoke.

She didn’t question that the ship would continue speaking to her, and she didn’t want to think about why.  To think about it would be to acknowledge that it could end.  It couldn’t.  Therefore there was no question.

“Yes,” she said, when she realized Anna was waiting for a response.

“It’s not telepathic, exactly,” Anna said.  It was quick enough that Castiel thought she might have given up waiting after all, and she had just happened to choose the same moment as Castiel to speak.  “The communication is electrical, or so they tell me.  It requires physical contact.  That’s why we can’t do it at a distance.”

Castiel knew that, but she didn’t care.  The why and the how of it didn’t concern her.  All she knew was that when she heard someone else’s thoughts in her head, her own didn’t seem so bad.

Or at least, they didn’t when she heard the ship’s thoughts.  She’d never tried with anyone else.  Not even another ship.  Ships in service were notoriously private, preferring to communicate through a single person when necessary.  Or in many cases, not at all.  She didn’t know how those contracts were worked out, but the ships didn’t leave, so they must work somehow.

“Do you speak to other ships?” she asked.  Anna wanted to talk, even if she didn’t.

“No,” Anna said.  “I’ve never spoken to any ship but Dean.”

The ship had told stories about other ships, when Castiel was listening late at night.  She wondered when they saw each other, how they talked if they couldn’t communicate at a distance.  The ship always made it sound like they were right there.  On the other end of a pager, if not physically beside each other all the time.

“Have you?” Anna added.  She held a vine out of Castiel’s way, and Castiel stopped just as she would have passed beneath it.  “Spoken to another ship?”

It wasn’t the question that made her pause.  She hadn’t been in the habit of walking barefoot on this ship – or any ship, for that matter – but she hadn’t been thinking when she left her room tonight.  The surfaces were warm, which wasn’t surprising.  The floor should feel like the walls; they were the same.

They shouldn’t hum.  Should they?  She’d never noticed before, not through her feet.  Sometimes the walls felt as though they were vibrating, but she’d associated it mostly with acceleration.  It hadn’t occurred to her that the center of the shell might be more than just the most defensible part of the vessel.

“Castiel?” Anna prompted.

“The floor is humming,” she said.

“We’re almost at the jump point,” Anna said.  “We’re slowing down.”

Castiel frowned.  That seemed normal, expected.  The feeling did not.

Anna waited, patient in her pajamas, for a woman who’d just joined her crew for no real reason other than that the ship liked her.  Castiel blinked, looking at her holding yet another obstruction out of her way without question.  “You’ve gone to a significant amount of trouble for me.”

Anna smiled.  “Just now noticing?” she asked lightly.  “Come in, Castiel.  You should sit down, and I’m tired.”

This was Anna’s room.  How had she not known where they were?  She’d passed it countless times, but it had been nothing other than a place equidistant from the edges.  The places she liked, of course: the ones where she could touch the skin of the ship and feel it touch her back.

She stepped past Anna, through a membrane that was familiar and strange at the same time.  Because of what was on the other side.  The captain was at the center of the ship because that was where the shell connected.  She had learned this in school, knew it intellectually, and still had failed to understand what it meant.

“Hey, Dean,” Anna said.  “I brought your favorite person.”

The room was bathed in a bright blue glow.  There were no lights on, no need for illumination other than what the ship provided.  The _ship._   Castiel stared, disbelieving.  How had she never known that Anna lived next to the skin of the ship itself?

She felt a hand on her back, and a gentle pressure.  Anna was urging her forward.  The hum beneath her feet was stronger here, and it wasn’t acceleration.  It couldn’t be acceleration.  Deceleration.  Whatever.  She wasn’t feeling the ship change speed or direction, she was feeling the ship.

She was feeling the ship breathe.

The blue light shifted, so subtly she didn’t realize at first, but it was more green than it had been when she came in.  She stepped forward.  Orange was bad.  Yellow was… less bad.  What was green?  Why hadn’t she ever asked the ship about the blue light before?

“I don’t know how much you know,” Anna said quietly.  “Green is curiosity.  Tell me if I’m just saying things you already know.”

“You’re not,” Castiel said, but her voice didn’t come out quite right.  Too quiet.  Too surprised.  It wasn’t Anna’s job to educate her.  Why hadn’t they learned this at the academy?

The same reason she’d never asked, maybe.  She didn’t know enough to know what the questions should be – what was polite, what was important.  What the ship would answer.  The academy wasn’t going to teach them about ship expressions.

“They never teach the important things at the academy,” Anna said.  “I figured Dean might have told you.”

“Why did you make me go if it wasn’t important?”  Castiel took another step.  The light flashed bright blue before shifting back toward green.  Brighter green.  More determined.

“You agreed,” Anna said.

She thought she had to.  No one traveled with a ship in service for long if they weren’t part of the program themselves.  “I did,” she murmured.  The final step brought her within touching distance, and she pressed her hand up against the light without waiting for permission.  She wasn’t sure she needed it, but she wouldn’t listen if it wasn’t granted, so that made the issue irrelevant.

 _Hey,_ the ship said.  _This is better, right?  Warmer, at least._

 _Do you talk to Anna like this?_   Castiel didn’t know what to say or how to ask and she was much too self-conscious for this conversation.  She usually wasn’t so aware when she had her hand pressed up against the side of the ship.  She never had an audience.  At least not at the beginning.

 _Sure._   The ship sounded as curious as it looked.  _All the time.  That’s why she sleeps here.  You should too; then we wouldn’t have to go through the whole will-she-die-or-won’t-she thing every time._

“I don’t know what to say,” Castiel said out loud.  She couldn’t take her hand away.  She couldn’t answer that.  She didn’t know why the ship would even say it; what would Anna think?  Could Anna hear them?

Anna was barefoot too, Castiel realized.  She hadn’t been, but she’d toed off her shoes when they entered and she was standing next to Castiel now.  She hadn’t put her hand on the ship.  She was watching the colors shift, not looking at Castiel.  Still close enough to see how strange this was.

“I think you’re doing fine,” Anna said.  “What do you usually say?”

 _Who the fuck cares?_ the ship asked.  _Tell Anna to stop being so weird._

“The ship says you should stop being so weird.”  Castiel relayed the message faithfully, though it didn’t seem appropriate.  “I don’t know what that means.”

Anna smiled, but she didn’t look up.  Her pager chimed, and she lifted it briefly before tilting it toward Castiel.  _A, talk to me,_ it said.  There was no sender listed.

“Do you mind?” Anna asked.

Castiel frowned.  “Mind what?”  She had no idea what the page had to do with anything.

“This is Dean,” Anna said, lifting the device again.  “The ship pages me when we’re not in contact.  Sometimes it has something useful to say.  Usually not.  Right now it thinks we should all be talking, but if I jump in, you’re going to have someone else in your head.  I don’t know how you feel about that.”

Castiel stared at her.  The ship could page her.  The ship could talk to more than one person at a time.  Anna would sound like the ship if they both spoke to it at the same time?

 _Tell Anna to touch me,_ the ship said.  _Trust me, it’s cool.  You’ll like it._

“The ship says to touch it,” Castiel said.  “It says I’ll like it.”

“You’re already touching it,” Anna said.

“You,” Castiel told her, and she could feel the ship’s amusement under her skin.  “You should – I don’t understand, I don’t know.  Is it okay?”

“Yes,” Anna said, reaching out to put her hand next to Castiel’s.  _It’s fine.  Don’t do it with anyone else’s ship and you’ll be fine._

That wasn’t entirely reassuring, but Anna was.  The sense of Anna’s certainty in her head was instantly calming.  The ship, on the other hand, seemed disgruntled.  The green was less blue than ever, shot through with yellow and orange, and Castiel didn’t know how she could pay attention to everything at once.  To speak, to see, to feel, to think – there was no room for anything in her mind except everything that was going on around her.

 _How come she calms you down and I don’t?_ the ship wanted to know.  _I’m calm.  I’m way calmer than her._

 _Because you can have whatever you want,_ Anna said.  _Of course you’re calm._

 _I wish,_ the ship retorted.  _I almost didn’t get Cas here.  You shouldn’t have let her go to school._

Castiel could hear them, could understand what they were talking about, but it was too fast for her to form coherent responses.  Out loud, let alone in her mind.  Except her mind should be faster, shouldn’t it?

 _We can tell how you react,_ the ship offered, obviously catching the gist of her confusion.  _We have to guess what it means unless you tell us.  Anna didn’t talk very fast when I first met her either.  Don’t worry about it._

 _I talk as fast as I need to,_ Anna said.  _We weren’t all born thinking at each other through physical contact._

 _Talking,_ the ship said.

 _I don’t hear you evolving any vocal chords,_ Anna said.  _You learn to make understandable noise without a computer, and then we’ll talk._

 _Whatever._   The ship didn’t sound impressed.  It did, however, sound very human.  _I’m awesome at languages.  Right, Cas?_

This was very clearly directed at her, and she nodded before she thought.  Or as soon as she thought.  _Yes,_ she added carefully, and Anna laughed.  Aloud.

“We don’t get to have actual conversations with other people that often,” Anna said.  Her voice sounded funny in the quiet room.  “I didn’t realize how fast we talk.”

 _Slow,_ the ship said.  _You’re faster when you don’t use words._

 _I never know what you get from me when I don’t use words,_ Anna countered.  _Believe me, I like fast as much as the next person, but clear is important too._

 _Overrated,_ the ship said.  _I know what you mean._

Castiel heard Anna scoff.  “Trust me,” she said.  “That’s not always true.”

 _I heard you telling Hester that Cas is sleeping with us tonight,_ the ship said.  _Good call._

 _Occasionally I come up with something on my own,_ Anna agreed.  _I have another hammock somewhere._

 _You don’t want to share?_ the ship asked.  _I thought humans liked sleeping together._

Castiel took her hand away involuntarily, and the place where her palm had been flared bright green and then orange.  Anna glanced at her.  “Dean says you don’t have your pager on you.”

“It’s in my –”  She stopped, staring at Anna.  “I shouldn’t be here.”

“You should,” Anna said.  She switched hands, keeping one in contact with the skin of the ship while she turned to face Castiel.  “Dean likes to joke around.  Pays more attention to the crew than most ships – that’s where the ridiculously good understanding of our language and colloquialisms comes from.  It also means a lot of teasing.”

“The rest of the crew,” Castiel said.  “They already think I’m a basket case.  They shouldn’t think things about you, too.”

“Castiel,” Anna said carefully.  “I think you should talk to Dean.”

She put her hand back on the ship.  Skin to skin, not because she was told, but because she was thinking again and if she could invite someone in to make it stop she would always say yes.  The ship had never made her feel worse.

 _Well, there’s a vote of confidence if I ever heard one,_ the ship said.  It sounded displeased.  _I’m glad you like me so much that I’m better than nothing._

 _I like you,_ Castiel thought.  It was hard to keep up when it wasn’t just her and the ship.  It was also hard to say what she meant to say, instead of whatever her brain came up with on its own.  _I didn’t mean to offend you._

 _Whatever,_ the ship said.  _Same here, I guess.  You and Anna might be good together; is that what set you off?_

 _Don’t talk about Anna like that,_ Castiel thought.  _She doesn’t deserve it._   Not after all she’d done: to get Castiel here, to keep her near the ship.  To keep her alive.  The ship probably got most of that, and maybe Anna did too.  It wasn’t in words, but apparently it didn’t have to be.

 _She deserves a lot of good things,_ the ship said.  _Don’t you think you’re a good thing?_

 _No._   That didn’t even require consideration.

 _Well, you are,_ the ship told her.  _I think you should start acting like it._

 _Dean,_ Anna said.  _Humans don’t go around telling each other who to have sex with.  You know that.  And I know what you’re about to say –_

 _It was just a suggestion,_ the ship said, the intent overlapping oddly with Anna so that it almost sounded like they were speaking at the same time.  _About sleeping.  Not about sex._

“It’s like we know each other,” Anna said aloud.  They couldn’t talk over each other out loud, and Castiel recognized the amused flash of light from Dean that indicated the ship knew exactly what she was doing.

 _Way to get the last word,_ the ship said.

“Always,” Anna said.  But silently she added, _I always pretend,_ and her mock-solemnity took on a new meaning.  They didn’t try to win, when they were talking to each other.  Castiel recognized their banter for what it was: friendship.  Fondness.  An affection that was more than practicality or necessity or even shared purpose.

 _You like each other,_ she thought.

 _Shocking,_ the ship said.  _You’ve picked up on the biggest secret we have._

 _Dean’s not making fun of you,_ Anna added.  _That’s actually true, even if it didn’t sound like it._

 _We made a pact,_ the ship agreed.  _The two of us, and no one else.  I won’t take another captain, and she won’t take another ship._

 _It means a little more coming from Dean,_ Anna said.  _Ships can have pretty much whoever they want.  Captains are lucky to get one._

 _You’re the only one for me, A,_ the ship told her.  _And I almost didn’t get Cas.  I’m still not over that._

“The ship’s mad at me for letting you go,” Anna said aloud.  “In case you didn’t get that.  Dean didn’t want you to leave, and I guess you didn’t really want to go, so.  Maybe that makes sense.”

“You said I had to,” Castiel said.

“Ships travel with crew,” Anna said.  “Becoming a member of the crew was your best shot at long-term placement.  That was before I realized quite how dedicated Dean is to your presence.”

 _I think you’re awesome,_ the ship said.  _You should just stay with us forever._

 _Why?_ Castiel asked.  She was looking at Anna, but the question was more for the ship than it was for her.  She must have known, because she didn’t try to answer.  _Why do you think I’m awesome?_

 _I just do,_ the ship said.  _Don’t you think I’m awesome?_

 _Of course,_ Castiel said.  _But you are._

 _Well, I’m gonna say the same thing about you,_ the ship replied, sounding positively cheerful.  _So here we are.  A’s such an enabler.  That’s why I keep her._

 _Notice I don’t get ‘awesome,’_ Anna remarked.  Her mouth was quirked into a smile.

 _Oh, you are,_ the ship said.  _You know it.  Cas needs some convincing._

 _Castiel needs some sleep,_ Anna corrected.  _I’m going to put up that hammock now.  You want some more time?_

 _I have to tell her a story!_   It was the most indignant the ship had sounded, and Castiel was reminded of the flat monotone of the computer when she was listening to stories in bed at the end of the day.  She’d been able to guess which parts the ship was enthusiastic about and which it wasn’t, just from the words.  After a while.

She wondered if the ship would tell them again so she could find out whether she was right or not.

 _Of course you do,_ Anna said.  _Just tell me if that’s code for something else, okay?  I can leave._

Castiel didn’t realize she was still looking at Anna until she went to stare.  Her eyes widened, but this time she kept her hand where it was.  _You also joke,_ she said.  Uncertainly.  She still couldn’t completely separate what was happening right in front of her from what was happening in her head.

The blur of insinuation and implication was a welcome relief from the worn-out clarity of her own thoughts, cycling through her head over and over.  She didn’t understand half of what was happening and she didn’t care.  She worried most about losing it, but if the ship wanted her here then Anna must want her here as well.

 _I’m already second to the ship,_ Anna mused.  _That didn’t take long._

 _Oh, stop whining,_ the ship said.  _You got to stalk her on earth for two whole days._

 _Yeah,_ Anna said, and she was watching Castiel carefully.  _I hadn’t actually told her about that._

 _Were you following me?_ Castiel asked.  Very little about her time on earth seemed to matter right now.  Very little about anything seemed to matter right now, with the ship in her head and Anna there to make sure it stayed that way.  She didn’t know why Anna ever left her room.

 _I was,_ Anna said.  _Dean was worried you’d change your mind._

 _Hey, you can’t actually get addicted to me, can you?_   The ship sounded curious again, even concerned in a way Castiel had heard before.  _Cause Cas here feels kind of lovesick._

 _You’re one to talk,_ Anna said, but she was reaching for Castiel.  She stopped just before her hand would have touched skin, and Castiel didn’t flinch.  “May I?”

Castiel had no idea what she was going to do, but she nodded.

Anna pressed two fingers to the side of her neck.  “Non-standard,” she said, sliding them forward a little.  “I figure the wrist doesn’t flush as easily, so if your temperature’s up I can get two readings in one.  It’s not,” she added, frowning.  “Neither is your pulse.”

“Should it be?”  Confusing as it was, it was still easier to talk out loud.

“Anna?”  There was a sound from behind her, and Anna’s gaze slid past her shoulder.  “Can I come in?”

Hester.  She’d brought the dream-blocker she’d promised, and Castiel felt no desire to let her in.  The ship was better than a drug, surely.  Should she let go while Anna welcomed Hester?  Turn around, at least?

 _Wow,_ the ship said.  _You do sound a little dopey.  Sit down in Anna’s hammock; the floor over there is skin._

And her feet were bare.  Castiel understood immediately, but she looked back at Anna.  Sitting in Anna’s bed wouldn’t be any better than holding onto the ship.  It might be worse.  She wasn’t very good at prioritizing social indiscretions.

Anna nodded, so she took that for permission.

Taking her hand away from the skin of the ship was easy – easier than she’d expected, given how hard she’d tried to get here – and she didn’t realize Anna was watching her until after she’d done it.  She tried to catch Anna’s eye as she walked to her hammock, but Anna was already going to let Hester in.  Castiel only knew she’d been watching from the way she hesitated.

As soon as her foot touched the light under Anna’s hammock she heard Dean say, _She’s checking for withdrawal.  Or whatever.  General badness._

 _What about you?_ Castiel thought.  Not entirely coherently, but she was trying to sit down, keep her feet on the floor, and not look completely compromising when Hester entered.  She didn’t know exactly what compromising would look like, but she suspected it would start with her in the captain’s bed.

 _Nah,_ Dean said.  _It would start with you touching me in the captain’s bed._

Castiel thought the ship had managed to make that sound remarkably indiscreet, given that it was exactly what she was doing.  _I’m doing that,_ she thought, in case it wasn’t clear.

 _Yup!_   The ship sounded gleeful, if such a thing was possible.  Of course it was.  She really had forgotten how vibrant Dean’s emotions were when they weren’t filtered through the computer.  _You, my friend, are compromise central.  Check out Hester’s expression._

Castiel did, but she didn’t forget to ask, _How can you read Hester’s expression?_

 _Lots of practice,_ Dean said.  _Hester’s been around a while.  And you have to admit, she doesn’t have many expressions.  She wasn’t exactly the hardest._

 _Who was the hardest?_ Castiel wanted to know.  Hester looked… grumpy.  That was the best she could do, and she wondered if Dean could do better.  It was true that when she thought back, she could only come up with three or four expressions: annoyed, cautionary, and resigned.  She thought she might have seen Hester smile, but she couldn’t remember why.

 _Anna, actually._   It wasn’t until she heard the name that she realized Dean hadn’t been using it.  _She’s got a whole range, but she’s so little it’s hard to differentiate._

There was a lot wrapped up in the word “little,” and Castiel thought she could almost hear the other words that would have been there if they were speaking out loud.  The way Hester and Anna were.  She should probably listen to that conversation.  She probably looked foolish sitting here, balancing on the edge of a hammock that wasn’t her own.

 _See, you’re getting it._   The ship’s voice was more important.  _Not little, you’re right, but subtle and clever and minute.  You know.  Little._

 _Repeating the word doesn’t make what’s behind it any more clear,_ Castiel said.

 _Sure it does._   The ship was suddenly warmer under her feet, and she almost pulled away in surprise before she realized it was intentional.  _Sorry, weird?  You weren’t looking, so I figured color wouldn’t do much good._

 _That’s intentional,_ Castiel thought.  _The color.  The temperature, too?_

 _Yeah, of course._   Dean sounded amused.  _Can’t you control your body?_

It was a poor question, given that most of the time Castiel felt as though she couldn’t, and Dean seemed to realize immediately.  _Okay,_ the ship said.  _How about this: if you could fly like me, hauling a bunch of crazy human beings along with you, wouldn’t you try to control it as hard as you could?_

 _Yes,_ Castiel said.  Of course she would.

 _There you go then,_ the ship said.  Like that was all there was to it.  Like all she had to do was try, and she would be able to change colors and save people and be the thin uncrossable line between life and death.  _Sometimes you just need a little motivation._

It was either cruel or reassuring, and she almost forgot to consider cruel.  She did, though, and she wanted to be sure: _You’re my motivation._

 _Yeah,_ the ship agreed.  _About that._

She didn’t feel nervous.  There was no other option but for the ship to agree.  Dean had never let her down before.

 _I’d really rather you didn’t leave again,_ the ship said.  _I get that the whole academy thing was interesting or whatever, but I missed you.  Talking through the computer isn’t the same._

 _You like me,_ Castiel thought.

 _I like you a lot,_ the ship agreed.  _There’s some other stuff I should probably tell you too._

 _Is it about romantic attachments?_ Castiel thought.  _Because I’ve already heard._

 _Oh, have you?_   The ship seemed to find this very funny.  _I can’t wait to hear what you’ve heard about romantic attachments.  Wait, romantic attachments in general?  Or romantic attachments with me in particular?_

“Castiel,” Anna said.  Her voice was gentle, and it was clear that she knew she was interrupting.  Castiel blinked at her anyway, reluctant to ignore Dean, but Hester was watching along with Anna.  “You should probably take this now.  Hester says it’ll take a little while to kick in.”

“It’s possible it will have some effect while you’re awake,” Hester warned.  “You may notice some fuzziness.  You shouldn’t take them if you’re not going to be able to sleep the whole night.”

“Will it interfere with my communication with –”  She only just stopped herself from saying Dean, and for a moment she couldn’t even generate the appropriate phrase.  It was like she’d already taken the medication.  That thought was alarming all on its own.  What if talking to Dean was an ability that had to be built up?  What if it could be worn out?  What if fatigue interrupted their conversation before she found out what Dean wanted to tell her?

“No,” Anna said.  “I took them once, and we didn’t have a problem.”

Castiel nodded.  Hester administered the medication with no further warnings, but Castiel knew she made note of how much contact Castiel had with the skin of the ship.  She supposed that would go into her file as well.

“Any other symptoms I should know about?” Hester asked, peering into her eyes.  “You’ll be able to sleep?”

“None,” Castiel said.  “I don’t expect sleep to be a problem.”  It wasn’t falling asleep that was difficult.  Although her eyelids weren’t drooping now, and she didn’t know what had happened to the drowsiness of the evening.  Maybe talking to the ship had a stimulating effect.

The ship.  That was what she was supposed to say.

“Stop by in the morning,” Hester was telling her.  “I’ll have Muriel do a quick check for the records.”

“I will,” Castiel agreed.  Then, before Hester could step back: “How long is the whole night?  My sleep has been interrupted; will the medication cause problems in the morning?”

“Six hours,” Hester said.  “Set your alarm back if you have to.  I’m sure your schedule can handle it.”

She didn’t know what time it was now, so perhaps her question had been poorly thought out.  There might be six hours left in the night.  Anna was nodding, so she hoped it wasn’t a problem.  “Thank you,” she told Hester.

 _Psst,_ Dean said.

That was it, and Castiel tapped one foot against the floor idly.

Anna echoed her thanks, and Hester tipped her head toward the door.  Castiel watched them step outside.  She wondered what Hester was saying, but she didn’t doubt Anna’s support.  Castiel was the one in here, after all.  With the ship.

 _You can call me Dean,_ the ship said.  _I know you want to._

“I’m not supposed to,” Castiel said aloud.

 _Shh,_ Dean told her.  Which was so absurd that she had to smile, because the ship was shushing her.  Like it was a sound the ship could make, mimicking human mannerisms in its speech like…

 _Hester’s still listening,_ Dean said, ignoring her amusement.  _Can I call you Cas?  Say yes._

 _Yes,_ Castiel said.  _Of course._

 _Good.  Are you gonna sleep now?_   The ship didn’t sound impatient, and Castiel wondered if maybe wistful was a better word.  The ship must have other things to do.  Why was it even still talking to her?

 _Hey,_ Dean said.  _I’m doing all sorts of things right now.  I’m an awesome multitasker.  You’re just more interesting than most of those things, so yeah.  I’m gonna be disappointed if you say yes._

 _But you should,_ Dean added, before she could say anything.  _You do have to sleep.  Or so I hear.  It’s a thing humans do._

 _Do you sleep?_ Castiel asked.

 _Kind of._ Dean didn’t sound sure.  _Anna’s sending Hester off.  You sure you don’t want to sleep with her?_

 _I didn’t say I didn’t want to,_ Castiel said.  _Why do you think it’s a good idea?_

 _I don’t!_   Dean actually sounded a little alarmed, and the color in the room flared orange just as Anna stepped back inside.  _I mean, I’m not against it or anything.  You totally can if you want._

 _You’re lying,_ Castiel realized.  _Right?  Is that what that means?  If you want me to learn your expressions, you have to tell me the truth._

 _Fine._   The ship felt like it was sulking, but Castiel understood that this was a cover for something else.  _I’m a little bit against it.  I want you to like me better than Anna._

 _I do,_ Castiel said.  _I like you better than anyone._

 _Oh._ The orange had completely disappeared by now, but Anna was watching her while the blue shaded into a deeper indigo.  _That’s all right then._

“Hi,” Anna said.  “Feeling all right?”

“The ship wants me to like it better than you,” Castiel said.

 _Oh, way to overshare,_ Dean complained.

“Also, it says I can call it Dean,” Castiel said.  “I am concerned that the crew will not appreciate this intimacy, but I forgot what I was supposed to say when I tried to ask Hester a question.  Do you suppose that was simply a sign of fatigue?”

Anna was quiet for a long moment, just watching her.  Castiel didn’t know why.  Finally, though, she said, “If the ship says you can call it Dean, you can call it Dean.  No matter what anyone else says or thinks.”

“I don’t want to promote discord,” Castiel said.  Breaking the rules seemed less important, now.

“We’re all here because we want to work with a ship,” Anna said.  “Most of us because we want to work with this ship in particular.  I think you’ll find that around here, Dean’s word is law.”

 _Almost didn’t get you,_ Dean grumbled.  _Doesn’t seem to work as well on earth._

“Complaining about having to fight for you again?” Anna asked, and Castiel blinked.  Anna wasn’t in contact with the ship’s skin at all that she could see.

Anna just smiled.  “Dean’s a little predictable.  There’ll be complaints about that for years.”

 _I’m awesome,_ the ship said.  _Tell A to set up your hammock so you can sleep._

“Apparently I’m to sleep now,” Castiel said aloud.  “I don’t mind the floor.”

 _Neither do I._   Dean sounded suddenly intrigued.  _Can you sleep on my skin?  I bet I can block your dreams better than whatever Hester gave you.  Let’s try._

“Of course you don’t have to sleep on the floor,” Anna said.  “I do sometimes have guests.  It’s not common, but Dean’s pretty social.”

At first Castiel thought that she meant Dean had guests.  Then she realized that anyone Anna brought aboard would necessarily have to be approved by Dean, and the explanation took on a whole new meaning.  “Dean approves your… overnight guests?” she asked.  Then she frowned.  “I’m sorry if that’s an inappropriate question.”

“It is,” Anna said, but she didn’t look upset about it.  “But we’re all about inappropriate here.  Dean approves everybody who comes on board.  So far I’ve kept most of my ‘overnight guests’ off the ship, but we do host people from time to time.  Yourself, for instance.”

She hadn’t slept in Anna’s space before she went to the academy, but she thought it would be rude to point that out.  More rude.  She probably had some impoliteness to make up for.

“I see,” Castiel said.

Anna was already stringing a hammock with the practiced ease of someone who had more guests than she let on.  Or someone who moved her own with some frequency.  Looking around her quarters, Castiel decided that was one possible explanation.  Anna didn’t have much more than she and Rachel had brought, despite the relative permanence of her living situation.  It would be easily shifted if Anna wanted to redecorate.

 _Cas,_ the ship whined.  Actually whined; it was very clear.  Castiel found herself smiling.  _Sleep on the floor.  It’ll be fun._

“Dean is urging me to sleep on the floor,” she said aloud.

Anna didn’t seem surprised.  “I’ve heard that one too,” she said.  “You can if you want, but I warn you.  It’s not very comfortable.”

“Anna,” Castiel said, then stopped.  Saying her name seemed as personal as saying Dean’s.

“Yes?”  She didn’t stop, but she did look over her shoulder as she reached for a blanket.

“This isn’t normal,” Castiel said.  “What you’re doing, what I’m – this isn’t typical.”

Anna paused.  She didn’t say anything.

“You’re very calm about it,” Castiel said awkwardly.

Anna sat down in the hammock she’d just put up, staring across the small space at Castiel.  “I’ve known Dean a long time,” she said at last.  “I’ve fielded a lot of crazy requests.  Some of them got us into trouble, some of them got us out of it.  But I’ve stopped questioning whether or not it’s the right thing to do.  Because it always is.”

“Always?” Castiel asked.

Anna just nodded.

“Am I a crazy request?” Castiel wanted to know.

Anna smiled at her.  “Castiel, sometimes I think you’re the strangest thing Dean’s ever wanted.  But then other times I look around and I think, who doesn’t want a friend?  I don’t know if bonding with a human refugee is a crazy thing for a ship to do or not, but it’s done, and we’re gonna roll with it.”

 _Until the end,_ Dean said.

“Until the end,” Anna echoed out loud.  “That’s what we say here.  We all know Dean won’t leave us, and you’re one of us now.”

 _You were always one of us,_ Dean said.  _If you’re wondering._

Castiel smiled back, and Anna just shook her head.  “Dean said something.  You haven’t smiled at me all evening; what was it?”

“That I was always one of you,” Castiel admitted.

“Sabotaging my inspiring speech,” Anna said.  “Thanks a lot.”

Her pager chimed, and she looked down.  “You’re right here,” she said, as she lifted it up to read.  “I could touch you, if you want.”

 _But you aren’t,_ Dean thought, and Castiel knew she was the only one who got it.

“But you aren’t,” she repeated obediently.

Anna turned the pager towards her, even though she couldn’t read it at this distance.  “Dean says it was enhancement, not sabotage.  And no, I’m not, because I’d like to get to bed sometime tonight and I know what happens when we start talking.”

 _So go to bed already,_ Dean said.  _Geez, like I’m the bad guy here._

Castiel got up, and as soon as she moved she remembered what Hester had said about the dream-blocker.  She shouldn’t be dizzy.  She didn’t even feel dizzy, she just felt… fuzzy.  As cautioned.

“You all right?” Anna asked, coming over to trade places with her.

“Fuzzy,” Castiel muttered.  She didn’t shake her head, but it was a near thing.  “Hester said I would be.”

“Must be working,” Anna said.  “You want some help?  You’re not really going to sleep on the floor, are you?  I have another pillow, I think.  Let me check.”

 _Yes,_ Dean said.  _Sleep on the floor._

 _I can’t,_ Castiel thought.  _I won’t know where I am._

 _Can’t hear you,_ Dean replied.  _Paging A._

Castiel thought the ship was joking at first, but Anna looked at her pager and then turned to look at Castiel.  “Dean can’t hear you?”

 _You really can’t hear me?_ Castiel thought.

 _I can hear you a little,_ Dean said.  _You sound muffled.  A does when she’s medicated too, don’t worry.  It’ll wear off._

“Hester said it wouldn’t affect this,” Castiel said.  Then she realized Anna was only hearing half the conversation.  “Dean says you’re hard to hear when you’re on medication too.  You should have told me.”

She wouldn’t have agreed if they’d told her.  They probably knew that.

“I didn’t know,” Anna said.  “Dean’s never mentioned it before.  Come on, it’ll wear off in the morning.”

Castiel let herself be guided away from Anna’s hammock, toward the one only just set up.  The floor underneath it was standard ship synth-organic, not skin or Dean or anything good.  She brushed her hand against the wall before she got in.  _Good night, Dean._

 _Night, Cas._   With the words came the promise of stories, a wish that she wouldn’t dream, and a brief reminder of romantic attachments that was gone before she could pin it down.

Anna was right.  It was better in the morning, and Hester’s medication had done everything else she could have asked for.  It made it harder to get out of bed when she woke up, but she supposed that was a small price to pay for not sleepwalking through a nightmare of blood and fire.

Dean was bright and enthusiastic as soon as she touched the light playing across the wall.  Anna was in the refresher when Castiel finally pressed her palm flat against the ship’s skin and answered Dean’s cheerful greeting.  _I slept fine,_ she thought.  _I assume you did not._

 _I’ll tell you when I do,_ Dean said.  _No dreams?_

 _No,_ Castiel said.  _I would be interested in testing your claim someday, however._

Dean got it right away.  _That I can keep them away better than drugs?  You’re on._

She supposed that depended on being invited to sleep in Anna’s quarters again, which probably wouldn’t happen.  It was unlikely she would have to follow through on her interest, and that was more disappointing than she’d expected.  She liked talking to Dean while she was awake.  Why wouldn’t she like it while she was asleep?

 _Carry your pager today,_ Dean was telling her.  _It’s no fun if I can’t even say hi._

In her mind, Castiel translated “say hi” as “express numerous inappropriate sentiments about you and the people around you,” and she felt Dean’s agreement.  No argument there, then.  She would pick up her pager on her way to breakfast.

She waited until Anna was out of the refresher to leave.  She needed clothes; it should be obvious where she was going.  But she’d been under watch the night before, and she couldn’t afford to be careless.  Not if it was going to trigger a ship-wide lockdown until they found her.

Would they even need to, she wondered?  Couldn’t they just ask Dean where she was?  Maybe it wouldn’t be as big a problem as she thought.  She’d been allowed to walk all the way to the edge of the shell last night, after all.

“See you at breakfast,” Anna was saying.  “Don’t forget to check in with Muriel.”

Rachel wasn’t there when she returned to her quarters, but she found five new messages on her pager.  The most recent was from Dean, and it said simply, CALL ME.  The next most recent was from Rachel, explaining that she’d gone to breakfast and would see Castiel at the security center afterwards.  The one before that was from Dean, saying she shouldn’t sleepwalk without her pager, and so was the previous: “Why aren’t you carrying this?”

The first one had been from Rachel, when she’d realized Castiel was missing the night before.  She’d tried the pager first, then clearly given up when she heard it chime from within their quarters.  Castiel would have to remember to thank her for her efforts.

Muriel was already at work when Castiel checked in, and she did a vital scan and made some notes before sending Castiel on her way.  Breakfast was somewhat more eventful.  By now the entire crew had heard about Castiel’s overnight adventures, and they seemed to want to hear it all again: from her.

She didn’t know what to tell them, so she just answered their questions.  If nothing else, it helped her remember who each of them was.  She thought she’d talked to everyone except a few members of the night shift by now.

There were fewer questions while she was working, and by lunch some of the curiosity seemed to have ebbed.  They had jumped sometime in the night.  Having a destination and “real” flight at the same time seemed to satisfy some of the restlessness in the crew.  She assumed the interest in her was related, and that it would continue to drop off as their distance from earth increased.

Anna did not attend the evening meal.  Castiel was neither disappointed nor surprised – until her pager chimed while she and Rachel were being introduced to the custom of “dinner theater.”  As far as Castiel could tell, coming after the meal and not involving a stage, it was not technically anything of the sort.  The crew seemed taken with the idea, though, and she looked at her pager expecting more commentary from Dean.

Instead there was a short message from Anna: _Dean says you can sleep with us again tonight._

Castiel frowned at the words, wondering if she was supposed to understand more than just the obvious message.  Was Anna required to watch her again tonight?  Had Dean given permission or made a request?  And would asking make the invitation more or less awkward?

Castiel decided that if honesty was the ship’s code, she should embrace it.  She couldn’t think of any other practical way to get answers, unless it involved asking Dean.  She could do that, of course, but the ship didn’t always convey the nuances of human interaction in a way that Castiel could understand.

 _Should I?_ Castiel sent back.

Somehow, Anna understood this and replied.  _You don’t have to,_ she said.  _Dean wants you to, and I don’t mind._

Castiel wanted to.  She wanted to sleep on the floor and let Dean try to prove a point.  She wanted to hear a “bedtime story,” as Anna called it, in Dean’s actual voice instead of the computer’s.  She wanted Dean, and at some point she was going to have to face the fact that she wanted something Anna didn’t have to give.

“Who is it?” Rachel whispered, leaning companionably against her shoulder.  She didn’t actually try to read Castiel’s pager.  That would be a breach of privacy, and Rachel was scrupulous about such things.

“Anna,” Castiel said.

“What’s the captain paging you for?” someone on her other side asked.  Obviously they didn’t all have Rachel’s standards.

“She answered a question for me,” Castiel said.  “I’m afraid I must go.  I have some work I should finish before the evening is over.”

Rachel knew perfectly well she didn’t have any work, but she just nodded.  “Should be peaceful this late,” she said, and she meant it.  Rachel always meant what she said.  It was one of many reasons they were compatible.

It was not the first time Castiel thought that her life might have been very different: if Dean was Rachel, and Rachel was Dean.  She couldn’t imagine it; she wouldn’t even try.  And no, it wasn’t the first time she’d thought it.  But it was the first time she let herself remember it afterwards.

She did go back to the security center.  She got a page before she even reached it, though, and this time it was Dean.  _You’re not really going to work, are you?_

“Of course I’m going to work,” she said, stepping through the membrane into a location lightly staffed even in the middle of the day.  There was only one other person there now, and they looked at her oddly until she added, “Why is the ship so interested in my schedule?”

Her pager chimed immediately.  Dean didn’t need time to type, after all.  _I want to be on your schedule,_ it said.

“You are on my schedule,” she said.  “Tonight.”

 _Too far away,_ the next page said.  _I’m bored.  Entertain me._

“How can you be bored?” she asked, pulling out records from half a year back.  She should probably walk forward through them chronologically, but then she would have had to pick a place to start.  Going backwards meant that she could keep going indefinitely if she so chose.

 _Can’t talk to you,_ Dean replied.  _I have a lot of stories.  You should go to bed early tonight._

“I assume that’s a euphemism,” Castiel said out loud.  “Since I wouldn’t be able to listen while I’m asleep.”

 _Bet you would,_ Dean’s next page said.

There was another page immediately following that one, and Castiel actually sighed when she went for her pager for the sixth time since arriving to “work.”  This time the message just said, _Your security buddy is hilariously confused right now._

She glanced over, and sure enough, Jeremiel was staring at her with wide eyes.

“Am I bothering you?” Castiel asked.  “I’m afraid I haven’t found a more subtle way to communicate with the ship as yet.  If you have any suggestions, I’m open to them.”

“You’re talking to the ship,” Jeremiel repeated.  There was a long pause, as though the expected answer might be _No, but it’s a good joke, right?_   Castiel wondered if people often joked with crew security.

“Does the ship talk back?” Jeremiel asked, when it became clear that Castiel wasn’t going to confirm something she’d already stated.  That was inefficient and a waste of effort – especially for pointless questions like that one.

Since the second question was actually a question, Castiel held up her pager.  “The ship can message replies as well as any of us.”

The pager chimed while she was holding it, so she turned it around.  _Better,_ the screen said simply.

She offered it to Jeremiel as proof, and her pager was lost for several minutes.  Castiel couldn’t tell if it was being checked for veracity or being scanned out of curiosity.  Either way, she thought it probably annoyed Dean that she wasn’t holding it, and that made her smile a little.

The few minutes she surrendered the pager to Jeremiel turned out to be the most productive of the evening.  As soon as she had it back, she found herself viewing message after message from Dean.  Most of them were ordinary observations of things she felt like she should have known, but hadn’t.  Some were comments on what she was doing, one on Jeremiel, and a couple about Anna.

The last one just said, _Anna’s asleep now._

Castiel wasn’t sure if that was an invitation or the opposite, perhaps a warning.  Jeremiel was still there, working the overnight, and Castiel had finally grown tired of having half their conversation be public.  Or maybe just this half.

She took the time to type the words into her pager: _What does that mean?_

The reply was as close to instantaneous as to make no difference.  _It means you should be too.  Also, she won’t make fun of you when you go to sleep on the floor.  You know you want to._

Castiel gave up.  There was nothing else she should be doing, nothing she could learn about the crew or prepare for their destination that wouldn’t be better done tomorrow.  She said good night to Jeremiel and stepped out of the center.

Where she hesitated.  How much was Rachel trying to keep track of her?  How much was Rachel required to keep track of her?  Castiel had been largely free today, but of course she’d had Dean messaging her every hour.  She wasn’t as unsupervised as she might look.

“Is Rachel asleep too?” she asked under her breath.

She had lifted her pager before it chimed, and Dean’s reply flashed across it all at once.  _No.  Waiting for you to call, it looks like._

Castiel nodded.  She should go back anyway; she needed something else to sleep in and clothes for tomorrow.  And the refresher she and Rachel shared was designed for two.  It would be more polite to use that than to impose on Anna.

 _Oh, hey,_ the words said when her pager chimed again.  _I’m probably not supposed to tell you what other members of the crew are doing, so.  Might want to keep that to yourself._

She smiled involuntarily.  “Do you tell Anna?” she asked, turning to head for her own quarters.  She didn’t know why she even bothered to put her pager away.

 _You’re going the wrong way,_ the text on her screen said.

Castiel would have told the ship she needed pajamas, except that she was passing someone else and if Jeremiel looked at her oddly, she assumed the rest of them would as well.  She couldn’t forget that they had told her the ship didn’t talk to humans.  It was hard to believe, but if her interaction with Dean was unique, it might take time for the crew to adjust.

To stop looking at her like she was crazy when she spoke to herself, at least.  She hoped.  It hadn’t bothered her the first few times, but she hadn’t really noticed until Dean pointed out what was happening.  Now she was reluctant to start again around someone she hadn’t already explained it to.

 _Still going the wrong way,_ her pager told her.

“I need some pajamas,” she whispered.  How could the ship even hear her here?  So quiet, so deep in the shell that separated them from a space-going entity like Dean?  “How can you even hear me?”

 _Magic,_ the pager replied.  _Also, I’m sensitive to vibration._

“The vibration of speaking?” she murmured incredulously.  It was easier to believe the ship could see and hear her when she could also see and hear the ship.  Here it was a little harder.  Even Anna had said they couldn’t communicate at a distance.

 _Very sensitive,_ the next message said.

“Do you listen to everyone?” Castiel asked, less quietly.  This, at least, was a question that other people would understand if they overheard.  The ship could communicate at a distance, in a way – it messaged her just fine, and Anna herself had said it did listen.

 _Yes,_ the ship said.  She wished she could get some kind of tone out of the static message on her screen, because glee or pride or just plain matter-of-factness would have told her a lot.  But it was just the word, and she thought maybe she shouldn’t ask for more.

Rachel was indeed still awake when Castiel arrived.  She did look a little surprised when Castiel indicated that her return was temporary.  “Are you still under observation?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” Castiel said honestly.  “Anna says I’m not, but I’m to see Muriel again tomorrow morning and the ship’s been following me around all day.”

Rachel gave her a skeptical look.  “Following you around?”

“Verbally,” Castiel said, holding up her pager.  Which had more text on it.  “I’ve heard more commentary on anything you can think of today than I have in the last two years.”  

This was something of an exaggeration, and she wasn’t surprised when her pager chimed again.  The first unread message said, _Can’t I observe people I like?_   The second one read simply, _LIES._

“You really have nothing better to do?” Castiel asked.  “This is a whole message.  This one word: it takes me longer to read it than it did for you to send it, and it doesn’t serve its intended purpose of chastising me in front of Rachel if she doesn’t see it.  Why don’t you message her?”

“Are you talking to the ship?” Rachel asked.

She hadn’t been doing it at lunch, she realized.  Her communication with Dean had drastically escalated over the course of the day.  “Yes,” she said.  “I’m talking to the ship.  Why am I talking to the ship?” she added, and this was directed at Dean.  If the ship could tell.  “You said you were bored.  Are you bored often?”

“The ship is bored?” Rachel repeated.  She smiled a little, corners of her mouth turning up, and Castiel knew she was teasing when she asked, “Why is it talking to you?”

The message on her pager said, _I’m doing plenty of other things.  This is my favorite.  And yes, I’m bored all the time when I’m not talking to you._

Castiel really wished she could feel those thoughts instead of just seeing the words.  She was mostly sure the ship was joking, but mostly sure wasn’t enough to explain to Rachel.  “I don’t know,” she said instead.  “It says it likes me.”

This provoked no further reply from the ship, and all Rachel said was, “Good taste.”

So Castiel picked up some things for the next day.  She went through the refresher, wondering as she did so if vibrations let the ship do more than just hear what was going on in the shell.  Was it sensitive enough to echolocate?  It must be if it could make out words, especially as quiet as she had been.  How much was echolocation like seeing, she wondered?

She didn’t ask until after she’d left Rachel and headed back toward Anna’s quarters.  She didn’t pass anyone this time, but she still hesitated to ask the question until she was almost at her destination.  That was when she realized Dean would find the thought when they touched anyway.  She might as well spare herself the embarrassment of being laughed at in person.

“Can you see what happens here?” Castiel asked.  “I mean.  When we’re not near your skin?”

She hadn’t pulled out her pager, not certain until she did it that she would actually ask the question.  But it chimed as soon as she finished speaking.  When she looked at it, Dean had written, _You mean can I see you in the shower?  Yes.  Can’t read your pager, though.  It’s just mass and movement, not optics the way you use them._

The honesty was reassuring, and she almost walked into Anna’s quarters before she remembered where she was.  “Should I –”  She stopped, suddenly very aware that she was alone.  She was standing outside the captain’s quarters, talking to a ship who wasn’t actually next to her.

The door fluttered open.

The interior of the room was once more bathed in a blue glow, but it was muted.  Dim, like a nightlight rather than bright daytime illumination.  It took her several seconds to realize that Anna was indeed sleeping.  Still sleeping, despite the door.

“Did you open the door?” Castiel whispered.

Her pager remained silent, but the blue glow on the far wall brightened a little.  In invitation, she thought.  She took several steps toward it before she understood what had happened to the room.  The dim light made it look different, she thought.  Until she stood exactly where she had stood the night before, and Anna’s hammock was to her left.

It had been on her right when she left this morning.  Now the empty hammock hung there instead, above the part of the floor that spilled down from the wall and pooled beneath it.  The part that was Dean’s skin.

“Did she – is it –”  It was hard to stop talking, hard to form a coherent sentence.  Harder than it should have been to close the final distance and feel Dean in her head again.  She’d been talking to a ghost all day.  She must have built up some kind of tolerance, some resistance to the awe it should have inspired.

The light flared pointedly.  Anna stirred a little, her hammock rustling softly.  When Castiel looked at her, her eyes were half open and squinting even in the dim light.  “Extra pillow in the hammock,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.  “Dump it all on the floor if you sleep there.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, just as softly.

It looked like Anna might have smiled in the shadows.  “Thanks for coming.”

Castiel wasn’t sure why she would say that, but it seemed rude to ask.  She’d clearly woken her up.  For the second night running.  The ship, on the other hand, was awake and clearly ready for conversation.

The skin of the ship flickered to a deep blue when she touched it.  _She’s fine with it,_ Dean said without waiting.  _Anna’s cool, don’t worry.  I wouldn’t still be working with her if she didn’t let me do whatever I want._

The flood of impressions was nothing like messages on her pager.  Castiel put her other hand on the skin, wondering why she was still wearing shoes of any kind.  Perhaps she could sit on the floor.  Just for a few minutes.  Just until Dean had cleared her head by simple virtue of her existence.

 _Did you get any of that stuff from Hester?_ Dean was asking.  _You don’t feel like it, but sometimes there’s a delayed reaction and I want to know if it’s coming.  You didn’t, did you._

Castiel didn’t even have time to answer.  The ship just kept going and she pressed harder, imagining that the play of colors over her hand was her own skin changing color.  Reflecting the ship’s feelings back at itself.  She tried to convey agreement and general appreciation, but Dean ran right over her.

 _What about Rachel?_ the ship asked.  _You said she wakes up when you have nightmares; she think you’re going to have more?_

This time there was an obvious pause for an answer, and Castiel tried her best.  _She didn’t say,_ she thought, with as much care as she could manage.  _She seemed unconcerned this evening, so I assume not._

 _Or she thinks I’m really hot and she’s just jealous,_ the ship said.  _I get that a lot._

Castiel was surprised to hear that, but she thought she could tell from the ship’s voice that it was meant to be humorous.  _How come you didn’t know if I’d seen Hester?_ she wanted to know.  It felt painfully slow compared to the rapid-fire exchange of words she’d witnessed between Anna and Dean the night before.  _If you can see me all the time?_

 _It’s good to check,_ the ship said, and the reply was so vague that Castiel genuinely didn’t know whether that meant “it’s polite” or “sometimes I don’t know.”  She supposed that was what Anna meant about a lack of clarity.

 _See, I think it’s the opposite,_ the ship told her.  _I think you’re less clear when you use words.  But Anna thinks things she doesn’t mean sometimes, and I don’t get that.  If I think something, I mean it._

Yes.  Castiel could see where the crew’s honesty came from.

This time there were no words from the ship.  Just a sense of appreciation, deepening as she noticed it, followed by a general sense of approval.  Approval that she’d recognized the gratitude for what it was, she thought, and she got a distinctly positive response from the ship.

 _Lie down,_ Dean said.  _I want to try telling you a story._

 _You always tell me stories,_ Castiel said.  She hoped it came across as curious, interested, because she always wanted to hear them.  But why would the ship have to try anything?  They could talk now, finally, with no computer in the way and no imminent physical failure on her part.  The story could be as long and as detailed as Dean could make it and she had nothing to do but listen.

 _Differently._   The ship sounded… maybe excited.  Definitely excited, but Castiel didn’t know why.  She smiled anyway, because Dean excited was a pleasant feeling.  She didn’t want to step away long enough to get comfortable.

 _This is totally worth it,_ Dean said.  _Seriously, I can take over your brain.  I’m pretty sure._

That sounded strange, but Castiel had been trying to get someone to control her brain for years now, so she couldn’t be too upset.  Hearing Dean in it was as much as she asked.  More than she asked, sometimes, but at least as much as she wanted.

 _I hope that’s not true,_ the ship said.  _You should want all kinds of stuff.  Also, your brain is awesome; don’t be so ready to hand it over to someone else._

 _Even you?_ she asked.  She knew the answer to that.

 _I’m an exception,_ Dean told her.  _You can totally trust me with your brain._

 _Are you trusting me with yours?_ she asked.  Not because she thought it was true, but because the question came naturally and the words were much easier to think than to say.  They were hard to stop thinking.

 _Sure,_ Dean said.  _I don’t talk to just anyone.  I know they told you._

Was that why the ship was so silent with most of the crew?  Something about the trust of communication?  _But you could message them,_ she said.  _If you didn’t want them in your head.  Your thoughts.  Whatever.  You could just talk to them through the computer._

 _This may come as a shock to you,_ Dean replied.  _But not everyone cares what I think all the time._

They should, she thought, and a little flicker of amusement told her that Dean had heard.

The light convinced her to step back, but she kicked off her shoes as she went and she didn’t have to lose contact with Dean at all.  Her foot touched the skin of the floor as soon as her hand let go of the wall.  Her toes felt warm immediately, and she thought that was probably Dean’s doing.

 _How much of the shell do you control?_ she thought.

 _Not mine to control,_ Dean said.  _But I can affect it pretty extensively.  As you can tell._

 _Well, but this isn’t shell,_ she thought, curling her toes against the fluctuating light of the floor.  _This is you.  Of course you control you._

 _Of course._   Dean sounded amused.  _Weren’t you just saying you don’t want to control all of yourself?_

 _I don’t do a very good job of it,_ she admitted.  It was a conversation she hoped wouldn’t go anywhere.

 _I disagree,_ Dean said.  _The point stands.  I can’t control everything, but I can manage the basics._

That actually did sound like her day-to-day life, and she supposed Dean might have said it like that on purpose.  Castiel knew how to get through one day at a time, and so far, each day had been enough.  She wondered if Dean ever felt like the days stretched into infinity with only more problems on the horizon.

 _Nope,_ Dean said.  _I don’t believe in that crap.  If you can’t find anything to live for, you go get wasted and call me in the morning.  It’s not that hard._

Then Dean added, _You shouldn’t do it.  I’d be pretty pissed if I couldn’t reach you._

 _I really don’t know how you got through two years of the academy,_ Castiel thought.  _Anyone would think you’ve just been pining away this whole time._   Which described her pretty well, but she couldn’t get much of an analysis on the ship.

 _I don’t know either,_ Dean told her.  Apparently completely serious.  _And hey, you might not know this, but the best way to put stuff on the floor is to just pick it up and throw it on the floor.  Pillows and blankets are pretty much sleepable no matter what you do, so it’s not like it requires planning or anything._

Anna didn’t seem to be watching anymore, so Castiel did in fact dump everything in the spare hammock out onto the ground.  She heard the ship crow beneath her feet, and she wondered if Dean had doubted she would do it.  She couldn’t ignore that expression of delight.  Before she knew it she was on the floor herself, pushing things around her in a half-hearted attempt to make a sleep-worthy arrangement.

Between the blankets and the pajamas, she didn’t manage to stay in constant contact with the skin of the ship.  The room was dimming, the light on the walls fading, but the colors flashed against her hands and feet as she moved.  Like Dean was tracking her through touch.  Or calling her.

She finally got settled down, lying awkwardly on a single blanket with another tossed across her chest.  Her hands were free, and she bunched up her pillow to cushion her shoulder and her head.  Laying the back of a hand on the floor didn’t seem like enough, somehow, so she pressed the palm of her other hand down beside it.

The ship didn’t say anything about her position, or the time she’d taking choosing it.  All Dean asked was, _Ready?_

 _Yes,_ she thought.  She didn’t know for what, but it didn’t really matter.

The room whistled away into the screaming colors of space.  Just like that she was flying, falling, soaring again on currents of light.  Everything around her was bright and sharp and a thousand things all at once.  But it was comforting, somehow: familiar, not frightening.  She knew without having to ask that she was seeing what Dean saw every day.

 _Dean,_ she thought.  No question.  Just an acknowledgment.

Dean answered anyway, sounding excited and maybe scared enough for both of them.  _Yeah?_

There were so many things she should say.  So many things she should ask, or wonder, or seek as reassurance.  But all she could think of was, _How do you ever land?_

The ship clearly took that in the spirit it was intended, because she could feel the relief of laughter.  _Landing is fun too,_ it said, and suddenly she was.  She was diving, earth rushing up at her – not earth, not her home, but it was.  Another planet.  But home wasn’t solid, not like this, this was rock and dirt and the welcome of an easy takeoff point.

 _Where,_ she thought, and that was all she got out before she knew.  She just knew.  She couldn’t name it, and it didn’t occur to her until later that she would have, if it had been her memory.  But it wasn’t.  Dean was thinking of how it felt to come in, to give in to gravity.

She thought about falling into grass, what it felt like when the ground welcomed her the way planets welcomed Dean, and she wasn’t flying anymore.  She could feel the sun and it felt warm.  She could feel the grass and it whispered.  They were human sensations, gentler than what Dean was used to, and Dean said, _Oh._

 _It works both ways,_ she thought, somewhat nonsensically, but the Dean understood.  Whatever they were doing, whatever Dean could make them share – it was hers as much as it was Dean’s.

 _You okay?_ Dean asked, but she obviously was.  She could feel Dean’s delight, and Dean must be able to feel her contentment.  This was what she’d always wanted to know: what it felt like to be Dean.  She was more than okay.

 _I’m glad,_ she thought.  It was the only thing that came close.  _Thank you._

 _Yeah, back at you._   Dean sounded very pleased.  They were flying again, and it wasn’t scary at all.  It was spectacular.  It felt like the safest thing she’d ever done.  She felt herself, relaxed and happy, and she felt Dean: playing, passing the time, hoping she slept so that she could dream about this instead.

She didn’t even bother with the “instead.”  It didn’t matter.  She stopped trying to pay attention when Dean started humming, and she didn’t know when she stopped being awake.  All she knew was the endless glide from one light to the next and the constant tug of new directions.

Anna wasn’t there when she woke up.  Dean was.

 _Did you dream?_ Dean asked, before she even opened her eyes.  She only had one hand on the bare floor now, and she almost sat up at the sound.  Except it wasn’t sound at all.  It was the ship, and she had to touch it or ask the computer to approximate its voice.

“Yes,” she said out loud.  The strangeness of the sound made her remember that she didn’t have to.  _I dreamt of you._

 _Great,_ Dean said, and the word sounded more serious than sarcastic.  _I had funny dreams about you too._

 _I thought you didn’t sleep._ Castiel supposed the ship could be joking; it did have a propensity for humor.  _How can you dream?_

 _Details._   The ship didn’t sound impressed.  _You know, if you were a ship, you’d have nice wings._

She sat up at that, mostly to make sure Anna really wasn’t there.  It could be a totally innocent comment, but the feeling behind the words was heartfelt and speculative at the same time.  Castiel thought it was more than an idle remark.

Easing a foot out from under her blanket, she slid her own skin against the floor so she could lift her hands and push her hair back.  _Why would you say that?_ she asked, hoping she really did want to know.

 _Because I saw you, in my dream,_ Dean said.  _You were a ship.  And you had nice wings._

It was a stubborn answer if it was any kind of answer, and Castiel wasn’t sure it was.  She thought she was going to ask what that meant.  She thought she was going to insist on knowing why Dean would say it.  But instead she was thinking, _Why didn’t I see you?_

And Dean replied, _You see me all the time._

 _As a human._   It was out before she could ignore it.  Before she could ask the right questions, rather than the one she really wanted an answer to.  _Why do you see me looking like you and I don’t see you looking like me?_

Dean sounded more cheerful this time.  _Guess I just have a better imagination than you do._

Castiel considered that.  It was hard to judge the imagination of a completely foreign creature, given that they had different frames of reference and little shared experience for comparison.  Still, from what she’d seen of Dean’s impressions of flying, she might be able to believe it.

 _You’re actually taking that, aren’t you._   Dean sounded odd, difficult to interpret.  _Like that might be an actual reason._

She frowned, and she made an effort to ask aloud even though she thought it first and the feeling was faster than the words.  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

 _I don’t know,_ Dean said.  _The real answer is I don’t know, okay?  I just think it would be cool if you were a ship, and you must not, so I imagine you and you don’t._

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Castiel said.  “I think –”  This time she stopped after she thought it, because it was damning enough in the privacy of her own mind.  Or the privacy of their minds.  _I wondered what it would be like if you were Rachel._

 _Yeah, I’ll try to be flattered by that,_ Dean said wryly.  But her response was gentle and Castiel thought she understood.  _Probably better not to tell anyone else._

 _No,_ she agreed.  And then she drew a blank.  She had no idea what came after that, and for once, Dean didn’t say anything.  So she just stared at the floor and watched the colors change.  The blue was almost entirely gone.

“You’re sad,” she blurted out.  _When the blue goes away._

 _Sometimes._   Dean sounded a little bit amused.  She hoped that was a good sign instead of a cover.  _You’re gonna be late to work._

She blinked, looking around the room again.  It was the same time it was before, only this time she noticed: breakfast would be over by the time she got there.  Any longer and Dean was right.  She didn’t think showing up late would be particularly helpful in convincing people she wasn’t crazy.

Or at least, that it was a harmless kind of crazy.

“Thank you,” she said, and she got up to pile her bedding back into the spare hammock.

Castiel ended up using Anna’s refresher and heading straight for the security center.  Trying to get breakfast at that point would only have emphasized how late she was, and bypassing it altogether made her chances with work much better.  She took it.

Dean was silent most of the morning.  She received a total of three messages, one of which might have been written by a younger person: _btw,_ it said, _nice pjs._   Castiel deciphered it fairly quickly, but its meaning eluded her.  Of course her pajamas were nice, they served a function and they were respectable enough to go to breakfast in if necessary.

The second one came during a meeting, which made her smile: _No,_ it said.  _That’s why we have that treaty, you con’t just amend half of it._

The scenario seemed vaguely familiar, but no one was asking to be bailed out, so she figured it was an inexplicably adopted part of the family.  They might not even be able to access her pager this far from home.  Dean’s concerns were raised by someone else, so she didn’t try to volunteer any extra information.

The third one was, _fyi, snacks in the break area._

Castiel sent, _Thanks,_ in reply to the last.  The others didn’t seem to require a response, and she wasn’t prepared to speak aloud in front of everyone on security duty that day.  She went to lunch late, after they’d discussed possibilities and precautions for planetfall the next day.  Her pager stayed silent.

Rachel was there when she arrived.  Her nominal roommate asked about the night before only in the most general terms, and Castiel managed to avoid saying anything that would prompt more questions from lingering crew.  Chamuel and Samandriel, she reminded herself.  Not faceless or nameless.  Two of the people she was here to protect.

She reviewed public personnel bios when she returned to work.  To make sure she had committed everyone’s pertinent details to memory.  It was easy to be overwhelmed by a change in routine, especially one so drastic as this, but she did have training.  This was her job.

She refused to think about what else she was overwhelmed by, although the first-day flashbacks were a part of it.  Dean was the other overriding part, inevitable and unquestioned.  The foundation of everything they did on the ship.  Her entire reason for being here.  And nothing she could ever understand.

Dean’s pages dropped to zero that afternoon.  Castiel pretended not to notice.  The ship wasn’t required to entertain her at all hours of the day; she’d made that clear immediately and several times since.  She must not be on watch anymore.  That would explain why Dean didn’t feel the need to check in every hour.

Rachel had to come remind her about the evening meal.  And Rachel, because she knew Castiel, brought it with her.  They ate in the security center, not even pretending to work, greeting Jeremiel’s arrival for the night shift as a moment to be celebrated.

Jeremiel seemed confused, but lifted an imaginary toast anyway.  Castiel thought that summed up her interactions with Jeremiel quite well.  The amused look on Rachel’s face seemed to agree.

She caught herself wondering what Dean’s expression would look like and it hit her all of a sudden.  Anna hadn’t invited her back for the night.  Dean hadn’t spoken to her since that morning.  If she was off watch and on her own, she was now expected to go to her own quarters, sleep in her own space, and then do it all over again tomorrow.

“Castiel?”  Rachel’s hand was on hers without hesitation, and she wondered how awful she must look to warrant profound touching from her typically reserved friend.  Perhaps Rachel had embraced the spirit of the ship as fully as her first-day enthusiasm indicated.  Perhaps she simply touched, now, for no reason at all.

“Are you all right?” Rachel was asking, clearly concerned.

“Yes,” she said, although she wasn’t sure that was true.  She wasn’t sure it had ever been true.  “I just realized that… I’m tired?”

It was a weak explanation, and she would have forgiven Rachel for a skeptical response.  But all Rachel did was nod and indicate the plates she’d brought.  “I’ll take these back,” she said.  “You can go ahead if you want to.”

She didn’t want to.  But she wanted to walk with someone else even less.  She would – she wouldn’t have to talk, Rachel wouldn’t make her.  Unless they ran into someone else, and then Rachel would speak to them, and Castiel would have to listen.  She couldn’t be around noise right now, so she nodded.

She heard Jeremiel call after her when she went.  Rachel answered.  Castiel kept walking.

Her pager chimed when she reached her quarters.  She thought of Dean, and the hope was crushing in its possibility.  If it wasn’t Dean, she didn’t want to know.  There was only one way to be sure of not knowing, so she set her pager down and went into the refresher without checking it.

When she emerged, Rachel was back.  She was changing, but her eyes went to Castiel instantly.  Because the pager Castiel had left behind was chiming a double beat.  Message received, memory full.  Message received, memory full.  Over and over again.

She didn’t even apologize.  She should have, and she would, but she checked the pager first.

 _You think I can’t,_ the most recent stored message said.  _But I will._

The message before it said, _They don’t even have to be the same.  I can come up with infinite new messages._

And then, _Want to see how fast I can fill your pager with personal messages?_

They were from Dean, of course.  As were the ones that had stopped arriving as soon as she picked it up, but it still registered 120 unreadable messages with the ship as the source.  The pager had stored far more than that before it had run out of space.

“I apologize,” Castiel said aloud.  She was talking to both of them.  “I had not anticipated Dean’s determination.”

The pager chimed again.  This time there was no computerized complaint about lack of space, and she looked down in surprise.  The new most recent message told her, _I’m disappointed by your personal data storage.  And also, you expect way too little trouble from me._

“Right,” Rachel was saying.  “Because we’re talking about the ship that got you into the academy and snapped you up before you’d even graduated.  The ship that took me along for the ride so you’d have a friend?  That’s the ship whose determination you underestimated?”

The three messages she’d read had been deleted from her pager.  Not by her.  Dean’s most recent message fit into the tiny cleared space, quickly joined by a second: _To save you reading the first thousand or so, come sleep with us tonight._

“I may have miscalculated,” Castiel admitted, still staring at the screen.  “Dean, are you able to access my pager remotely?”

The device chimed again.  _I call you, don’t I?_

Then, before she could rephrase the question, the message disappeared.  So did the two before it.  _Possibly,_ a new message told her.  _I do have data links with the shell._

Which their pagers all used to network with each other.  Protocol – politeness, actually, a basic respect for privacy – kept them from accessing each other’s data.  It was all locked, of course, but locks meant little in deep space except another way to pass the time.  They didn’t break into, alter, or delete other people’s encrypted communication because it would be rude.

 _Probably shouldn’t mention that either,_ the third and final new message said.

“For a ship that’s all about honesty,” Castiel said, “you seem to do a lot of things I’m not supposed to tell anyone about.”

The read messages disappeared again and were replaced by a reply: _It’s not a secret.  I only do it to people who don’t mind, like you.  The people I wouldn’t do it to are the people who get weird hearing that it’s happening at all._

“You’re looking out for their comfort,” Castiel said.

 _Yes,_ Dean replied.

Even Castiel wasn’t sure how skeptical she’d meant her observation to be.  She definitely couldn’t tell how Dean meant that reply without more information.  “Fine,” she said aloud.  “Your pager hack is mysteriously limited to my pager.”

 _Are you coming?_ was the only reply.

She looked up to find Rachel watching her.  “Apparently I’ll be staying elsewhere tonight,” Castiel said.

“That was a lot of messages to ask you to spend the night,” Rachel said.

“Yes,” Castiel said.  “I thought so too.”

Her pager didn’t chime.  But on the other side of the room, Rachel’s did.

Rachel looked down at it.  Castiel didn’t miss her surprise when she realized who it was.  “Your ship,” she said slowly, “says there are two ways to get someone to stop asking a question.  The first involves the question being answered.”

Castiel waited, and when Rachel caught her eye she seemed to realize it.  “The second one involves violence,” she offered as an afterthought.  “It’s really the first one that applies here.”

“There’s no possible way I could have been expected to answer a thousand questions in that amount of time,” Castiel said.

Dean must have been able to fit a few more words, because another message appeared on Castiel’s pager: _Just the first one would have been enough._

“The first one would have been enough.”  Castiel read aloud for Rachel’s benefit, then added, “I admit to ignoring the first message.  And I’m flattered by the followup.”

It made Rachel smile.  “They’re never going to get you off this ship,” she said.

Castiel stared at her for a long moment.  Leaving had never even occurred to her.  Mostly because she couldn’t function if she thought that far ahead, and partly because this was the only goal she’d had for two years.  She had no reason to want anything else.

Rachel held up her hands.  “I won’t say anything,” she said, giving the lie to her statement.  “That wasn’t a judgment, it was just an observation.”

Castiel’s pager chimed, and she sighed.  “There can’t possibly be more space on this,” she said, holding it up again.  Dean just kept deleting the read messages and adding new ones in their place.

 _I wouldn’t let you off,_ the screen read.  _If you didn’t want to go._

Castiel stared at it for a long moment, until finally Rachel said, “Should I ask?  I feel like I’m intruding and she’s not even here.”

Her head came up and her pager chimed at the same moment.  “She?” Castiel repeated, before glancing at her pager.

 _She?_ it said simply.

“Dean,” Rachel said.  “Is the ship not a she?  Sorry.  I guess that’s carryover custom from the mechanicals.”

“They’re not gendered,” Castiel said.  It was rote, automatic, something they’d been taught at the academy and then largely ignored.  “Ships in service aren’t he or she.”

“Well, yeah,” Rachel said.  Both their pagers were chiming now.  “But it’s D–  it’s your ship.  It’s the ship, I mean.  It – is using ‘it’ even polite?”

Castiel looked down at her pager.  “‘I like it,’” she read aloud.

Rachel held up her own.  Castiel couldn’t read the words at a distance, but Rachel echoed, “I like it.”

“Which?” Castiel asked.  “She, or it?”

 _She,_ the pager said.  Rachel was reading her own at the same time, and Castiel wondered why it had taken Dean so long to send identical messages to both of them.  _I’m totally a she._

“You are?”  Castiel didn’t intent to sound so skeptical, but she’d gotten no sense of the feminine from Dean’s communication.  Either text or tactile.

 _Sure,_ the pager replied.  _You’re she.  So am I._

Castiel frowned, because that wasn’t clear at all.  She looked at Rachel, who held up her pager again and shook her head.  This time Castiel could tell the screen was blank.  Her own must be full again.  If Dean hadn’t sent it to Rachel, though, there must be a reason?

“Dean says yes,” she said at last.  “It’s possible she’s just humoring us.”

Her messages were being replaced as fast as they were deleted.  _Hey,_ this one said.  _Don’t you like being humored?_

“‘Don’t you like being humored?’” Rachel read off of her own screen.

“No,” Castiel said.  She couldn’t say why that question, of all of them, irritated her.  “You are who you are.  You don’t have to pretend to be like us.”

 _We’re like each other,_ Dean’s next message said.  _What’s so bad about using the same words?_

That she couldn’t answer.  Rachel held up a blank pager, and Castiel muttered, “Why shouldn’t we use the same words for the things that are the same.”

“Is it the same?” Rachel asked.  She paused when Castiel did, then added, “Never mind.  You look exhausted.  Maybe you should just go get some sleep.”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said with a sigh.  “It’s probably not the same, but I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you need sleep,” Rachel insisted.  “D– hey, ship?  Does everyone just call you the ship?  How do you know when someone’s talking to you?”

Two pagers chimed simultaneously, and when Castiel looked down hers said, _Most people don’t._

She caught Rachel’s eye, and they nodded at the same time.  Same message received, then.

“Should I call you Ship?” Rachel wanted to know.  “Because I was going to ask you if you have some magic way of getting Castiel to sleep.  Promising to tell her a story or something.  It seemed to work at the academy.”

 _Just telling the story seems to work best,_ her pager said.  _I must be pretty boring._

“You’re not,” Castiel protested, and she saw Rachel smile.  Ah.  So other people could recognize Dean teasing even in text.  That was somewhat embarrassing.

 _Why thank you, Cas._   She couldn’t tell if she was being mocked or not.  She was inclined to think not, simply because Dean was too kind for that, but they rarely had an audience.  Behaviors often changed in company.

When Castiel’s pager chimed yet again, Rachel’s stayed silent.  _So should I ask Rachel to call me Dean?_ the screen asked.  _Or will that make the rest of the crew all weird?_

“Why doesn’t the rest of the crew call you Dean?” Castiel asked.

 _Only people who talk to me get to use my name,_ Dean wrote back.  _Personal rule.  Don’t see why people who can’t even say ‘hi’ should get to be all ‘Dean this’ and ‘Dean that’ behind my back.  So to speak._

“I see,” Castiel said slowly.  And she thought she did.  “Then, if Rachel talks to you, it’s a logical response.”

This time both their pagers chimed, even though the message was clearly for Rachel.  _Hey,_ it said.  _Cas says you should call me Dean.  What do you think?_

“I –”  Rachel looked at Castiel, her expression startled.  “That makes sense,” she said.  “I mean, I’ll call you whatever you want.  Obviously.”

 _Okay,_ the next message said.  _I want you to call me Dean._

“Okay,” Rachel echoed aloud.  “Thanks.  Dean.”

_Sure thing, Rachel._

Castiel sighed as her pager lit up to erase the read messages yet again.  “You could just erase them all,” she said.

_You don’t want to read my messages?  What if there’s some kind of brilliance in there?_

Castiel didn’t know what to say to that, and her pager chimed again before she could decide.  _Besides, it’s rude to erase someone else’s unread messages.  I’d hate to be rude.  There’s a mass delete option; you can use it if you want to._

She knew there was a mass delete option.  It was her pager.  But she hesitated, because if Dean thought she might want to read them then she had to admit she was curious.  She wouldn’t have deleted them either, given a choice.  It was only the inconvenience it seemed to be causing Dean that made her suggest it.

 _You want me to do it?_ the next message asked.

“No,” Castiel blurted out.  “I want to read them.”

“Read what?” Rachel asked.  When Castiel caught her eye she added, “Sorry, never mind.  I didn’t get that one.”

Both their pagers chimed, and this time Dean apologized too.  _Sorry,_ the screen said.  _I’m not used to talking to more than one of you at a time._

“It’s fine,” Rachel said.  “You don’t have to talk to me, you know.  Just because you like Castiel.  It’s not like a two-for-one or anything.”

 _It’s exactly like that,_ the next message said.  Castiel thought maybe Dean was amused, but it was hard to tell with just the words.  _But I’m talking to you because you’re talking to me.  That’s all._

“I thought other people would talk to you,” Castiel said.  “The engineers, surely.  I’ve heard them.”

 _They’re not talking to me,_ Dean said.  _They’re talking to whatever’s under their hands.  It’s different._

That made some sense to Castiel, and it could be because she was tired, but she hoped it was because Dean wasn’t as hard to understand as she sometimes thought.  If they were the same, after all, they must feel some of the same things.  And she knew how it felt to have people talk in your general direction without actually talking to you.

“I understand,” she said.  Because a response must be required, but she didn’t know how to express her faint and fluttery thought process out loud.

The return message surprised her anyway.  _Sure you do,_ it said.  _I think it’s bedtime.  You’re spending the night with us, right?_

“I said I would,” Castiel replied.  “May I bring clothes for tomorrow?”

 _Bring whatever you want,_ Dean said.  Rachel’s pager was chiming along with hers – albeit with fewer blinks to delete messages in between – so they both saw Dean say, _Can bring clothes for a few days, if you’re up for it._

As though she wouldn’t be.  “Of course,” she said aloud.  “I’ll be with you shortly.”

Rachel smiled, but she didn’t say anything.  Castiel didn’t have the energy to continue a conversation no one else was prompting, so she fell silent too as she gathered up her things.  She should ask about Anna, but she would have to break the silence to do it and Dean had said Anna approved of everything.

Everything Dean came up with, anyway.  Castiel thought that might be something of an exaggeration – she was certain she’d head Anna complain at least once about something the ship had decided – but for now it was acceptable.  She found that when she arrived back in the center of the shell, Anna was just as asleep as she’d been the night before.

Maybe more, given that this time she didn’t stir when Castiel came in.  The light was so low as to be non-existent, but Castiel could see after giving her eyes a moment to adjust.  The places she needed to see were better lit, or at least comfortingly colorful enough to outline shapes and negative space in the relative darkness.

Her blankets were still in the spare hammock Anna had switched with her own the day before.  They didn’t look like they’d been touched.  It was hard to tell in the dim light, but they weren’t folded and the pillow was on the bottom.  As she’d left it.

She did wonder what Anna thought of her invading their space like this.  Dean said it was okay, but even Castiel could tell that Dean missed some of the basic niceties of human interaction.  On the other hand, Anna had also said it was okay.  And Anna had been forthright in their conversations so far.

The floor brightened perceptibly around the edges of her blankets – even through them, maybe brighter there where it was harder to see – and Castiel brushed her hand against it soothingly.  The rush of _Dean_ in her head was stronger than she’d expected.  She didn’t realize she’d stopped moving until Dean’s wordless nudge reminded her to pull off her socks and roll up her sleeves before trying to find a comfortable position on the floor.

More skin meant easier communication.  It was nice to go without words for a while, although she didn’t recognize the comfort for what it was until Dean said, _You can use words if you want.  I’m not anti-words._

She smiled at that, but she was smiling into her pillow now and the things Dean needed to know about her mood didn’t come from her expression.  _I think there have been plenty of words._   She still wanted to read those messages on her pager, but she knew how to prioritize.  Dean was here with her, touchable and sensate, and so she had no use for screens and static communication.

She would go through them tomorrow.  On breaks, perhaps at meals if she wasn’t required to make small talk.  After work.  Dean had sent them all at once, but she was free to read them as slowly as she wanted.  She only regretted that she couldn’t see what Dean had written after the pager’s allotted storage space filled up.  The fact that the messages hadn’t stopped made her wonder if Dean said anything differently when it was clear no one was listening.

The sense she got from Dean was distinctly affirmative.  Honesty or no honesty, Dean recognized that some conversations were neither appropriate nor desired.  Hence the suggestion that Castiel keep to herself some of the things Dean did for her: locate crew members, activate or otherwise influence equipment in the shell.  Talk to her like a person of worth.

Dean hadn’t asked her to keep that last a secret, of course.  She didn’t have to.  Castiel did it automatically, because usually people who spoke to her like that wanted something for her.  A better life, less guilt, more productive uses of her energy.  Which sounded fine until she tried to implement suggestions for those things.  She could barely get out of bed some days, and thinking of the things she wasn’t doing didn’t help.

_You’re worth a lot, Cas._

Dean’s thoughts drowned out the ones in her head.  As usual.  She found herself relaxing, and only as it happened did she realize how tightly she’d been holding herself.  _You’re worth a lot,_ she replied.

 _True,_ Dean said.  _Your turn._

She didn’t bother to ask, just wondered for what, and Dean replied.

 _Say you’re worth a lot,_ the ship told her.  _It’ll make me feel better._

Castiel couldn’t ignore Dean’s thoughts – it was the whole reason she was here – so she ordered her own carefully and pushed them through the reassuring blanket of attention and color and flight.  _I’m worth a lot,_ she thought.  When she was telling Dean it didn’t seem so ridiculous: because here was someone who had gone to a significant amount of trouble to rescue and then retrieve her.  That had to mean something.

 _Damn right you are,_ Dean thought.  And that was all, the words gone in favor of sensation: flying again, and contentment, and a hint of apology for things not addressed.

Castiel knew what they were.  The silence that day compared to the day before, the wait for an invitation back to this room.  The lack of an actual apology.  The non-conversation that had started it, the one Castiel could barely remember but knew like the back of her hand.

The conversation they weren’t having went like this:

 _Hey,_ Dean would say.  _I’m a ship.  I wish you were a ship because then we could get together and be ship-lovers._

 _No,_ Castiel would reply.  Dean’s voice was a little bit silly when she imagined it, and she wondered what she sounded like to Dean.  _We’re not supposed to wish that, because that doesn’t make any sense.  I’m not a ship._

 _And I’m not a human._   Dean’s answer was predictable to the point of inevitability.  _But if I were, I’d try to marry you so we could run away together._

 _I don’t want to get married,_ Castiel would say.  And in her own head she knew that she was using the word “marry” to mean something else.  It was close enough, as far as she was concerned.  _I’m not that kind of human._

 _I am,_ Dean would tell her.  _I have someone else.  Is that okay?_

Dean’s dreams of flying took over, sweeping into her mind even as she was trying to sleep and pressing everything else out.  She recognized it as intentional, possibly even in response to her silent fear of incompatibility.  She welcomed it.

She didn’t realize until morning that she had been dreaming too, and Dean had heard every word.

 _Hi,_ Dean said.

Her hand twitched in surprise, and the illusion of a face staring back at hers vanished with the loss of touch.  Castiel blinked, trying to make sure her eyes were open, that she knew where she was.  The floor of Anna’s quarters.  Anna’s hammock was still in the dimness.  She couldn’t tell if there was someone in it or not.

She wasn’t touching Dean’s skin anymore; she couldn’t hear the ship’s voice.  But for a moment…

She hadn’t just heard Dean.  She’d seen her.  It must have been lingering sleep, the dream, something.  Something that wasn’t real.  The skin of the ship was glowing faintly, a deep green edging into yellow.  Not enough to light the room, and concentrated where she’d been touching it.  All she could see were shadows, except in that one place.

Castiel tried to relax, to let go of the adrenaline that had startled her awake.  Or at least startled her from partial wakefulness to the real thing.  Her arm dipped, hand coming to rest on the floor again.  She was too warm in the blankets that cocooned her, that kept her from Dean’s skin except in that one place.  She didn’t push them away.

 _Okay,_ the ship said.  _So are we not talking about this?_

Dean sounded subdued, and she tried to catch up.  They must have been having a conversation, a real one, and she couldn’t remember what it was.  Before she fell asleep?  Or had she woken up in the night and forgotten something Dean had mentioned then?  Had she agreed to do something today that she couldn’t yet remember?

 _Your dream,_ Dean said.  _My temper tantrum.  Whatever._

She got the feeling that Dean was using words because Castiel wasn’t making any sense.  She thought it was the other way around, but Dean clearly disagreed.  All she could sense was disappointment and apology.  She couldn’t tell which of them was stronger.

 _Cas,_ Dean said.  _I imagine you as a ship._   The words were very slow, like the ship was trying to be as clear as physically possible.  So there could be no misunderstanding.  _Is that gonna be a problem?_

The feeling that came with it clarified somehow, even without more words.  A problem for her, Dean meant.  Obviously it was a problem for everyone else.  Or it would be if they knew.

 _Cas,_ Dean repeated, more insistently this time.  _I don’t care about everyone else.  Could we not talk about them for a second?_

 _I wasn’t,_ she thought.  Carefully, because Dean seemed upset.  She didn’t want to make it worse by not saying anything, but she still felt like she was half asleep.  Not because she was tired: just because she was lost.  She felt like Dean had started this conversation without her.

 _I did,_ Dean said.  _Maybe I did.  Yesterday morning.  I’m starting to think you didn’t have any idea what I was talking about._

 _I don’t even remember yesterday morning,_ she said truthfully.  She didn’t remember much right now, because Dean was right there, overwhelming everything.  Needing something, and she had no idea what it was.  _What’s wrong?  Just tell me._

 _What’s wrong is, I want you to be like me,_ Dean said.  _Because I care about you a lot and I want to keep you forever and also I wouldn’t mind fucking you._

Castiel considered the barrage of sensation that came with that, trying to sort through the meaning behind coarse words and impossible sentiments.  _I don’t understand,_ she said at last.  She probably didn’t have to say it; it must be obvious.  But Dean let her put it into words anyway.

After a long moment, all Castiel could think of was, _Do ships fuck?_

The walls glittered with Dean’s amusement, and she felt her mouth curve into a smile.  The light was muted, unintrusive in the way that she doubted it would wake Anna up.  Or even registered behind closed eyelids.  But to someone with dark-adapted vision it was unmistakable.

 _Of course we do,_ Dean replied.  _How do you think we have little ship babies?_

She hadn’t been aware they had babies at all.  _I’ve never seen a little ship baby,_ she said.

 _Well, no._ Dean was dimmer with the sudden splash of seriousness, but she could sense the fondness that underlaid the idea anyway.  Dean liked children.  Ship babies.  It was so clear that even the explanation, _We keep them away from humans for obvious reason,_ couldn’t darken that revelation.

 _Exploitation?_ Castiel guessed, putting a word to the suspicion that colored Dean’s protectiveness.  Then, before the sensation of agreement had even registered, she was asking, _Do you have any children?_

 _No,_ Dean said immediately.  _But my sister wants one._

Castiel blinked, shifting a little to ease the weight on her shoulder.  It felt warmer than it had when she woke up, but she just rolled onto her stomach and put her other hand on the floor instead.  _Your sister?_ she repeated.

 _Sam,_ Dean said, like she might have forgotten.

 _I know who Sam is,_ she said, smiling into her free arm as she pillowed her head on it.  She had no idea what time it was.  She should probably find out, but if Anna wasn’t up she couldn’t be late, right?  Anna must get up earlier than she did.  And her alarm hadn’t gone off yet.  _I was just surprised to hear you call her your sister._

And there, she’d done it too.  Just because Dean had: she’d called Sam “her.”

 _She’s my family,_ Dean said stubbornly.  _She’s my sister._

 _Sam is a she,_ Castiel said.  _That’s the only part that’s new to me._

 _I want a gender,_ Dean said.  _I’m taking yours._

It made Castiel smile.  _That’s fine,_ she thought, as mildly as she could.  If Dean was going to be that vehement about it, who was she to argue?  _You sound like you’ve thought about it._

 _Enough,_ Dean said.  Agreeing, if a little wary about it.  Like she expected Castiel to spring an argument on her even now.  _Not as much as you would._

 _No one thinks about things as much as I would,_ Castiel said.

 _In that case,_ Dean replied, _I think you should be distracted.  Want to know how we make babies?_

Castiel pulled her palm away from the surface of the ship, leaving her fingertips pressed against Dean’s skin.  She idly walked them over the colors that played around her touch.  She had no idea how to answer that, but it made her wonder how comparable Dean’s description would be to a human experience.

How would she even describe the human experience of baby-making?  Would it sound pleasant if she tried?  To an alien who had no frame of reference?  Or would it just sound messy, physical and necessary and something that humans were driven to do by evolutionary instinct?

 _You do,_ Dean said.  _I can tell.  But you don’t think you’re going to like it._

 _I’m not… interested in children,_ Castiel thought, because she couldn’t change the way that came out once it started to form in her mind.  _I mean, they’re fine, but I don’t want any.  For myself.  It’s fine if other people have them._

Dean sounded more amused than offended.  _I’m not really talking about babies, Cas._

She drew in a deep breath and let it out, resting her chin on her arm instead of her cheek.  She kept her fingers pressed against Dean, but she laid the rest of her hand flat again and stared at the blue-green color directly in front of her eyes.  _I know._

 _So?_ Dean said.  The ship sounded gentler than it had a moment ago, prompting her without demanding.  _What do you think about sex?_

 _I haven’t been interested in sex in a long time._   It was hard to admit, but not because of the lack.  It was admitting she had ever cared that seemed difficult now.  _It doesn’t really matter, does it?  We can’t do it._

There was a long pause, and she knew it wasn’t really silence.  Just because Dean wasn’t bothering with words didn’t mean they weren’t communicating, but she wasn’t good at interpreting Dean’s complicated emotional process.  All she knew was that Dean wasn’t upset anymore.  She didn’t know what had changed, but she liked it.  Everything else seemed incidental.

 _Would it matter if you wanted to?_ Dean asked at last.  _I mean.  Will you ever want to?  If you won’t, that’s fine, not trying to tell you what to feel or anything.  But if you did once, is that important?_

Dean didn’t seem confused.  The words were confusing, muddled even, but Castiel thought they were a clumsy way of trying to express something that seemed very clear to Dean.  As though this was thing she wanted to talk about.  Maybe had for a while, and somehow Castiel had given her the impression it was off-limits.

 _I don’t understand,_ Castiel admitted.  _But… I don’t know._   She didn’t know what else to say, what else to think.  She tried not to think about it.  She used to be closer to people, accessible in a way they could understand, and she knew that had changed.  She didn’t know why or exactly what the difference was.  But she didn’t miss it.

 _You don’t know if you’ll ever want sex?_ Dean asked.  _Just to be clear.  Don’t answer if you don’t want to._

 _I don’t know,_ Castiel repeated.  _I don’t miss it._

 _Yeah,_ Dean agreed.  _I got that.  I do, kind of.  It’s been a while, you know?_

She didn’t know: not about how long it had been for Dean, what that meant, how important it was.  She knew she didn’t care how long it had been for her, but that was it.  _Tell me if something’s wrong,_ she said.

 _I’m imagining having sex with you,_ Dean said.  _You tell me if that’s wrong or not._

She shrugged, and the movement surprised her a little.  She was still lying down, hand pressed against Dean, wrapped in blankets that she was starting to suspect Dean wanted her to get rid of.  She couldn’t be this warm on her own, could she?  Dean must be raising the temperature underneath her.

 _I don’t mind,_ she thought, even though she assumed her lack of reaction was answer enough for Dean.  _Is it good?_

The walls sparkled again.  All around her, glitter cascading down toward the floor, and she smiled.  It wasn’t bright but it twinkled, and she wondered what it would look like if Anna was awake and Dean wasn’t trying to be polite.  Was this her equivalent of whispering?

 _You mean, is the sex we’re not having good when I imagine it?_ Dean asked.  The way the question came across was easy, amused, unnecessary.  Like Dean already got it, like they both knew it, and the only point to repeating it was to enjoy it all over again.

 _Yes,_ Castiel thought.  _I assume you imagining me as a ship figures into this fantasy._

 _Wow, Cas._   Dean’s tone was happy and unguarded and very, very affectionate.  It made her want to burrow into her blankets and feel them curling all around her, except they weren’t Dean, so she supposed what she really wanted to do was push them away.  Except that then there wouldn’t be anything to wrap her up.  _I kind of love you._

She scrunched the blanket out from under her head, at least.  Leaning over her arm, she pressed her lips against the skin of the ship before resting her head back on her hand.  _I love you too,_ she thought.  _You’re very kind._

 _You mean that,_ Dean said.  _Like, you actually love me.  You’re not joking._

 _I’ve been trying to get back to you for two years,_ she reminded Dean.  _What did you expect?_

This seemed to stymy Dean, and she got flash after flash of possibility.  Most of them involved stress-related trauma on her part.  Guilt, fixation, misplaced gratitude.  Wanting something she couldn’t lose, trying to make up for something she couldn’t change.  A distraction she was willing to accept, to latch onto when the rest of her world was out of control.

Manipulation.  It wasn’t first on the list, but she found it in the fear anyway: Dean knew how highly regarded ships in service were, and Dean’s own favor was something that people had taken advantage of in the past.  Castiel hadn’t asked for anything, but Rachel had applied to one ship and one ship only.

 _She was worried about me,_ Castiel said.  _She didn’t expect you to take her._

 _I know,_ Dean said.  _It’s fine; I like her._

This was almost completely true, and Castiel understood the flicker of jealousy that accompanied it.  She felt it when Dean talked about Sam.  All they knew about each other was what they chose to share.  They had no common experiences to draw from except the ones they actually had together.  Castiel couldn’t guess what Dean’s life had been like before her, and Dean had nothing to compare Castiel’s human life to except the observation of others in the crew.

 _A’s awake,_ Dean said very quietly.  Like Anna might somehow hear them.

“Morning, Anna,” Castiel whispered.  She hoped it was all right to treat the captain as a friend; she didn’t think she could do otherwise when Dean was so close.  Dean thought of Anna as the closest to family a human could be, and wasn’t that a disconcerting thought.  If humans couldn’t be family, what would she be to Dean?

 _I love you,_ Dean reminded her, and that was enough.

“Yeah,” Anna muttered, shifting in her hammock until her eyes peered over the side at Castiel.  “I guess it is.  How’s the floor?”

“Warm,” Castiel said.  “I think Dean’s trying to get me out of the blankets.”

The walls glittered again.  Just as muted as before, maybe in deference to their eyes this time.  Anna saw it and smiled too.  “Dean likes you a lot,” she said.

“Yes,” Castiel agreed.  “We were just talking about that.”

Anna tilted her head, one hand pulling the edge of her hammock down to give her a better view.  Castiel could barely see her face, let alone her eyes, but she thought Anna was looking at… something.  Her, maybe.  All of her.  She wondered if there was something in her body language to give it away.

“Oh?” Anna said.

“Yes,” Castiel repeated.  Then, because she didn’t know what other reassurance to offer, she added, “I like her a lot too.”

The walls pulsed in the darkness, a deep purple that seemed very strong without being bright or flashy, and Castiel felt something from Dean that was just as unfathomable.  She wanted to call it loving, or kind, except that those were her words and she knew Dean wouldn’t use them if pressed.  Dean would say something much more – 

Anna sat up.  “Her?” she echoed.  For the first time, Anna sounded alarmed, and Castiel’s fingers pressed harder against the floor.  She didn’t notice she was doing it until she felt a ripple underneath her, actual movement, and a fierce reassurance from Dean.

The same thing she had felt the first night back on the ship.  Out at the edge of the shell, she had tried to walk back inside and something had helped her.  Something had propelled her in the right direction.

She hadn’t done it alone, then.  Dean had stood behind her and pushed.

Castiel said nothing, and Anna repeated, “Is Dean ‘her’ now?”

Beside her hammock, Anna’s pager chimed, and Castiel saw Anna make an aborted move toward it.  Realizing, as Castiel did, that it must be Dean.  Instead of picking up her pager, Anna took a breath and asked, “May I join you?”

 _Tell her to look at her pager,_ Dean said.  The ship sounded angry, though the feeling flared and vanished quickly.  Castiel didn’t have to ask to know that it was mostly in response to her own fear.  Anna could still separate them.

 _No she can’t,_ Dean said.  _She won’t._

“Dean says to look at your pager,” Castiel murmured.

She was surprised when Anna did, not putting her hand to Dean’s skin even though that was clearly her intent.  Castiel had assumed the request was a simple courtesy, but Anna might actually be waiting on permission.  The pager screen illuminated her face when she thumbed Dean’s message to the top.

 _It says I asked to be,_ Dean said.  _It says, ‘Rachel said it by accident and I asked them to keep using it.’_

Castiel was grateful for the explanation.  She wasn’t sure how she felt about Anna not knowing Dean had shared it.  Would Anna just assume Dean had told her?  Or would she think that the pager message was meant to be a private communication, so as not to disturb Castiel with the information?

 _I can send it to your pager too,_ Dean offered.  _If you want._

Castiel could feel the ship’s uncertainty about who should know what, and when, and she wondered if this was as strange to Dean as it was to them.  Both Anna and Dean had indicated that they didn’t talk to anyone else very often.  Dean had been very clear last night that trying to talk to both Rachel and Castiel was new and unusual.

 _Yeah,_ Dean said.  _I don’t really get how to hold a group conversation with you._

 _Computer?_ Castiel offered, thinking of the messages she’d gotten at the academy.  She’d played them out loud sometimes when Rachel wasn’t there to be bothered, but her roommate had caught her at it once or twice.

 _Sure,_ Dean said after a moment.  _That makes sense._   The silent amusement that accompanied it was a sort of nonverbal “why didn’t I think of that” feeling.  _Can you warn her for me?_

“Anna,” Castiel said aloud.  “Dean wants you to know the computer will voice for… Dean.”  She went the safer, more awkward, route rather than use a pronoun again.

“Hi, A.”  The synthesized computer voice was toneless and flat compared to the warmth beneath Castiel’s hand, and suddenly she felt out of place curled inside her blankets.  The conversation was above her, now.  She felt Dean’s bemusement at the change, but she managed to sit up without taking her hand away from Dean’s skin.

“Sent Cas voice messages at the academy,” the computer voice said.  “Don’t know why I didn’t think of doing it here.”

“Do you want me to stay out of this?”  Anna’s voice was even, and Castiel wasn’t good at recognizing hidden messages or even emotion sometimes, but she thought Anna was trying not to sound hurt.  “I don’t have to…”  It was the first time Castiel could remember her hesitating in the middle of a sentence.  “Touch you.”

“No, do it.”  The computer sounded bland, but the words were a little quicker than they’d been before.  “Touch me.  It’s not a private conversation.  Come on, A, we wouldn’t do that to you.”

Quicker, but not quick enough.  Anna was already out of her hammock, fingers brushing against the part of the wall that was awash with brightening color.  The room was getting lighter by increments, Castiel realized.  She could see Anna’s pajamas now, and a little bit of her expression.  Not because her vision was adapting but because Dean was turning up the light.

 _Replaced me already, huh?_   Anna’s voice was rueful and sad all at the same time, and Castiel wondered if she would have dared to say it aloud.

 _No!_   It was as vehement as she’d heard Dean, even when the ship was trying to convince her not to hurt herself, forget herself, lose herself in whatever nightmare had taken her over this time.  _A, you’re my captain and my best friend.  That doesn’t change.  Ever._

Castiel could see the relief on Anna’s face, in her posture.  She caught Castiel’s eye then, and Castiel nodded.  What else could she do?  She liked Anna just fine.  She liked Dean more, and Dean loved Anna.  They had promised to stick together until the end.  Castiel couldn’t, wouldn’t ever try to change that.

 _Cas,_ Dean said.  _I love you.  Me and Anna, we’re not the same as me and you._

 _Wow,_ Anna said, and despite the clarity and the speed of the thought Castiel got the feeling that she hadn’t meant to interrupt.  _I missed a lot yesterday, didn’t I._

 _Yeah, we all did,_ Dean said.  _There’s some stuff I should probably tell you._

Castiel thought Dean was nervous, maybe in the same way that Castiel had sensed when it was just the two of them talking.  Before Castiel had shrugged off Dean’s dreams of her being a ship and the two of them having ship babies and Dean had laughed and said, “I kind of love you.”

Castiel wasn’t going to forget that any time soon.

 _You’re fine with it,_ Anna said.  Castiel didn’t know which of them she meant, but Dean obviously recognized the message as aimed at both.

 _Yeah,_ Dean replied.  _We’re good._

 _Okay,_ Anna said.  _Then I’m good too._

 _No,_ Dean said.  _Wait, we want to tell you.  Cas._

Castiel didn’t understand what it was for but she knew a plea when she heard it.  _Yes,_ she said.  The word felt slow and clumsy next to them.  _You’re important._   She stopped there because she couldn’t believe they wanted to hear her go on, slow and halting in the face of their quicksilver communication.

 _It’s just practice, Cas._   Dean sounded patient and dismissive at the same time.  _You’re awesome, don’t worry about it._

 _We read Dean’s messages,_ Anna added unexpectedly.  _And listen over the computer.  That’s as slow to Dean as your thoughts seem to you._

Of course they listened.  The medium was limiting; it had nothing to do with what Dean was trying to express.  She wanted to hear it.  Always.

 _Yeah,_ Dean said, clearly amused.  The glitter that washed the walls this time came in a wave, gentle and rolling and almost as bright as day.  The room had reached normal illumination when she wasn’t paying attention.  _We always want to hear it, Cas._

Right.  That made sense, then.

 _We want to stay together,_ Cas said, more awkward than ever now that she knew how carefully they were listening.  _We talked about some things that…_   We shouldn’t, she thought, and she knew they both understood, but she tried to form different words.  _The ships-in-service program says we shouldn’t._

 _The program’s designed to protect people,_ Anna replied.  _Ships, humans._ Her unspoken message was, mostly ships.  _Everyone.  If no one involved is getting hurt, the rules don’t really apply._

 _See,_ Dean said.  _I told you she’s cool_.

Castiel couldn’t help but smile at the pride in Dean’s thoughts.  _Yes,_ she agreed, though Dean didn’t need it.  _I see that._

 _Should we look at getting you your own room?_ Anna asked.  It took Castiel a few seconds to decipher the rest of the question: with Dean, she meant.  Somewhere she could sleep with Dean without also being with Anna.

 _No,_ Dean said.  _We’re fine here._

Castiel raised an eyebrow at Anna, and Anna smiled.  She didn’t say anything, though, so Castiel took it upon herself to point out, _Anna might not be._

 _No, it’s fine,_ Anna said, but her amusement was clear.  _I just meant, maybe you’d want to be alone sometimes._

 _No,_ Dean repeated.

But Castiel said, _Do you want to be?  Anna?_   When they both paused long enough to let her continue if she wanted to, she did.  _I’m sorry to have just taken over your space like this.  I know you used to sleep here._

 _Just for convenience,_ Anna said.  _So Dean could get my attention fast._

 _I can still do that,_ Dean said.  _You’re right here._

 _I am,_ Anna agreed.  _But I saw how Castiel was patting the floor this morning._   She didn’t go any further, but they were in each other’s minds.  Somehow.  Castiel didn’t know why talking to Dean automatically meant she was talking to anyone else who was talking to Dean, but it did, and she knew exactly what Anna meant.

 _We can’t, though._   Dean sounded uncertain again, and not because of Anna’s rules.  Not because of anyone’s rules.  Because Dean thought that Anna was taking for granted something that Dean had already ruled out.

 _You will,_ Anna replied.

Castiel lost the thread of conversation when Dean’s questions shivered through colloquial and into something she didn’t even recognize.  English, still, she was sure, because they were words she knew.  But they were too fast for her to register the order, and Anna didn’t seem to be doing much better.  Castiel heard her tell Dean to slow down twice before she gave up and just let Dean talk.

Castiel kicked the blanket off of her feet slowly, trying to be unobtrusive.  Anna wasn’t looking at her anymore, but staring at the wall over her head.  Castiel curled her toes against the bare floor, wrapping the blanket back around her knees with her free hand.  She let the other one tap the skin of the ship gently, a rhythm that didn’t matter and didn’t distract her anywhere near enough.  It kept her from being totally lost in the swirl of thoughts and that was it.

 _Dean,_ she heard Anna say.  _I’m not against it.  But it’s not my decision._

 _It’s partly your decision,_ Dean said.

 _And I said I’m not against it,_ she repeated.

The floor warmed under her feet noticeably, and when she looked down she saw bright yellow inquiry there.  Not just curiosity but concern, worry that Castiel wouldn’t even like the question, let alone answer it positively.  Castiel had no idea what they were talking about.

 _I don’t know what you’re asking,_ she thought.

 _I’m not human,_ Dean said.  _Anna is.  If you ever want sex with a human, she says she’d consider it._

“Wow,” Anna added out loud.  “And I thought _I_ phrased that badly.”

Castiel looked at her.  Embarrassment was clear in her mind, but the colored light made it hard to tell whether or not Anna was actually blushing.  She supposed it wasn’t important, except that she thought she might be, and she would be less worried about it if she had company.

“I am,” Anna said.  “I’m blushing.  If you’re curious.”

“Yes,” Castiel said quietly.  “I was.”

“I thought so,” Anna agreed.  She didn’t sound any more confident.  “I’m just… this isn’t about me.  Dean’s my best friend, and obviously I care about you too, but – I’m not trying to –”

“Neither am I,” Castiel said, when Anna stopped.  But she didn’t know where to go from there, and Anna seemed to be stuck, so they just hung there in the silence until Dean intervened.

 _Well, I am,_ the ship announced.  _I’m trying to do something._

“What?” Castiel asked aloud.

At the same time, Anna asked, _What?_

This, of all things, seemed to stump Dean to the point of speechlessness.

After a moment, Anna let out her breath in a laugh.  “Well,” she said.  “At least we’re all in the same place.”

Castiel had no idea what place that was, but she supposed Anna meant that none of them did.  “Are you,” she began, and as the only one speaking she found herself the center of attention.  “Saying you don’t mind me being here?” she asked carefully.  “Because… I don’t have to sleep here every night.”

She did, she wanted to, she didn’t want to sleep without Dean for a single night.  She felt like this was where she’d been headed her entire life.  But she wasn’t the only one here, and no matter what Dean said, they had both invaded Anna’s privacy without invitation.

“Yes, you do,” Anna said.  “Let’s not go there again.  I’d rather have you here than freezing to death on the hull, and don’t tell me you won’t do it.”

Castiel didn’t say anything, and Anna sighed.  “Tell me you wouldn’t do it,” she said, more quietly.

Castiel hesitated.  “I don’t intend to,” she said at last.  She didn’t know if Anna meant freezing to death literally, but it didn’t really matter if the threat was real.  She didn’t mean to kill herself.  She just wanted something to matter, and if that something was Dean, then she would do whatever it took to remind herself of it.

 _I’m really, totally against you being out on the hull,_ Dean said.  The problem with saying it in person, so to speak, physically instead of through the computer or their pagers, was that it was supremely easy to recognize a lie.  _Really,_ Dean added, as though the emphasis would help.

 _You’re not helping,_ Anna said.

 _Fine,_ Dean said.  _I’m against Cas dying.  How’s that?  That’s true._

“At least wait until we land,” Anna said.  She sighed, but she sounded… not as resigned as she might have.  “Dean is much more accessible in an atmosphere, and you won’t die of exposure.  Probably.”

“Can I?” Castiel asked.  She was already trying to remember what part of their schedule might include or allow for a terrestrial landing.  Even a station landing, anything with an atmosphere, a time when she could stand outside the shell and breathe.  “You didn’t set down on Earth.”

 _Too much traffic,_ Dean said.  _I’d have done it anyway if I’d thought you’d be there._

 _Why wouldn’t you?_ Castiel asked.

 _Hadn’t seen you in two years,_ Dean reminded her.  _I’d just watched Anna argue that you should come with me because you were already involved with Rachel.  She’s very convincing when she wants to be._

Castiel’s pager chimed, startling her so much that she actually asked, _What?_ and waited for Dean’s response.

 _It’s not me._   Dean wasn’t laughing at her, but she fumbled the device anyway.

It was Rachel, asking if she should save Castiel something from breakfast.

“Are we so late?” Castiel wondered, even though the time on her pager was perfectly clear.  She wasn’t yet, but she would be soon.  Possibly before she could dress and get breakfast.  “I shouldn’t have kept you talking.  I’m sorry.”

 _Yeah you should have,_ Dean said.

 _I didn’t mean you,_ Castiel retorted immediately.  Because of course she should bother Dean as much as possible; it was only fair.  Dean harassed her all day long with messages and idle commentary.  When she was lucky.

 _Sorry about yesterday,_ Dean said, clearly responding to her thoughts.

 _Are we over it?_ Castiel asked, because what she meant was “are _you_ over it” but she understood that Dean’s reluctance to bring it up might have been partly her responsibility.  Whatever it was, and whyever that had happened.

 _I’m over it,_ Dean said anyway.  _You’re gonna see way more interesting dreams now, I can tell you that._

 _Talk out loud or talk without me,_ Anna said, tapping her fingers against the skin of the ship in a way that was reminiscent of patting without lifting her whole hand.  _I need to get moving._

 _You want to be involved in this conversation?_ Dean countered.

 _You’re the one who keeps trying to make me,_ Anna said.  _By the way, she?  Is that a thing now?  Do I call you that to the rest of the crew?_

 _That’s a thing now,_ Dean confirmed.  _I’m one hot babe.  Giving you both a run for your money._

 _How do you know phrases like that?_ Castiel wanted to know.  _I don’t even know that.  Is that even a real saying?_

 _Beats me,_ Dean said.  _Hanathel uses it._

“Which means nothing,” Anna said, drawing her hand away.  “Trust me.  Anything could come out of her mouth.”

 _It means I’m in competition with you,_ Dean offered, when Castiel pushed wordless confusion at her.  _’Cause you’re so good-looking, you and A, you should win.  Except now I’m in it too, and I look awesome enough to compete._

 _What does that have to do with anything?_ Castiel wanted to know.

“It means Dean would make a good-looking woman,” Anna said.  The pause was obvious before she said, “At least, she thinks she would.”  The why of the pause was unclear until she added, “That’s a little weird, actually.”

Dean flashed an orange color at her that Castiel knew was in jest, and Anna seemed to recognize the same because she smiled.  “The ‘she’ part,” she said.  “Not the good-looking part.  You already knew that.”

 _I’m a good-looking ship,_ Dean said.  _Stands to reason it would carry over._

The ship meant something else by that, and Castiel tried to pin it down but the understanding slipped through her grasp.  Something about waking up, and seeing things.  And why Dean was so insistent that she needed Castiel’s okay to think of her as a ship.  Castiel still didn’t understand, but she trusted Dean.

“Out loud,” Anna reminded them.  She was already changing her clothes, not bothering to step out of sight the way she had the first day Castiel had woken up here.  “Computer interface is a good idea.  It’ll mean other people start talking to you, though.”

“I can still ignore them like this,” the computer said, the even tone disguising Dean’s silent reaction.  Not just carelessness, but maybe a flicker of hope, too.  Castiel thought Dean was more lonely than the ship – than she let on.

Dean had seemed to like talking to Rachel last night.

 _Rachel’s your friend,_ Dean reminded her.  _I have a reason to be nice to her._

“Why do you ignore them?” Castiel asked, so Anna could hear.

“The ignoring is mutual,” the computer said.  “I have other things to do, anyway.”

“It’s tradition,” Anna said.  “Ships in service don’t talk to anyone but the captain.  That’s just the way it is.  It keeps instructions from getting jumbled.”

“It reinforces the chain of command,” the synthesized voice said.  Castiel could still feel her, feel the ship, and it was disturbingly easy to think of Dean as “her.”  Dean was less impressed by the chain of command and more impressed with Anna.  Since no one else was Anna, Dean didn’t see any reason to talk to them.

“I don’t think you care,” Castiel said.  “I think you just decide who you like and then ignore the rest.”

There was a long moment of silence.  She could tell that Dean thought it was funny, admitted it was true, and didn’t care about her tone.  She was less sure of Anna.  Castiel wasn’t good at gauging socially appropriate ways to say things, and she’d forgotten that Anna was only getting her words, not her intent.

“True,” the computer said at last.  Blue and purple light played around Castiel’s feet, and Anna was smiling down at her now.  “That’s probably pretty common for us.  With humans.  And let’s be fair,” the ship added.  “It is for you too.  With us.”

“I think it is,” Anna said, fastening a belt around her waist.  She was quick.  “We’ll get it, though.  Nice to have you around again, Cas; you’ll shake things up.”

She looked up.  Instead of saying anything useful, all she could think of was, “I should be getting dressed too.”

“Yeah,” Anna said with a grin.  “You should.  But you’re the only one you have to report to this morning, and it sounds like Rachel’s got breakfast covered.  So I’m going to go, and whatever you get up to while I’m not here isn’t any of my business.”

Castiel frowned.  Surely it was; this was Anna’s space and Anna’s ship.  Castiel was part of Anna’s crew.  “What do you mean,” she began, but Dean interrupted her.

“Yes, ma’am,” the computer’s voice said.  Then, “Hey.  I can interrupt you now.  That’s great.”

“That’s the beginning of the end,” Anna said.  “See you later.  Make sure you show up for work eventually, Cas.  Before we reach the station.”

She was supposed to be going over dockside security protocols this morning.  Castiel scrambled to her feet, but Anna held up a hand.  “I’m not kidding,” she said.  “I’m leaving.  Take an extra hour or so.  If you need it.”

“Thanks, A,” the computer said.

Anna waved at them, ducking out of the room before Castiel could ask why.

 _Cas,_ Dean thought.  _Sit down._

“Why?” she asked out loud.

 _Because I want to show you something,_ Dean said.  _Because Anna said we could, and you have time.  Because you’ll either get it, or you’ll hate it, and I don’t think I can take a whole day wondering which it’s going to be._

Dean was excited and nervous and Cas was at a loss.  What could have changed in the last few seconds that would make Dean feel like this.  She wanted to ask, but Dean knew that and Dean still wasn’t telling her.  So she sat down again.

 _Move the blankets,_ Dean said.  _Are you okay without the blankets?  I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything._

 _I’m fine,_ she thought.  She pushed the blankets out of the way, but when Dean told her to lie down she hesitated.  _I’d like to know why,_ she said.

 _Why?_ Dean asked.  _Why is this what you want to know about?_

 _Because you’re nervous,_ Castiel said.  _People are nervous when they’re not sure something is going to work.  I’d like the chance to help you make it work._

She got that Dean was surprised, then impressed, then talking too fast for her to follow.  She got something about sleeping, dreaming, more about dreaming, and that was it.  It didn’t make sense no matter how long she waited, but she let Dean talk until the words became more comprehensible.

 _I can do it,_ Dean was saying.  _I just don’t, because why bother?  Except when there’s something I need to see or talk to and it’s too far away or it’s gone or whatever._   There was another blur of explanation that Castiel didn’t get, something that sounded like ghosts, but she knew the ships communicated with each other in ways that didn’t involve light or sound.  Their color-shifting skin was, as far as she could tell, vestigial to the point of being decorative.

 _I wasn’t sure you’d be able to see it,_ Dean told her.  _Because you can hear me, but I’m slowing it down a lot and I’m using your language on top of it._

That part she understood, and she somehow managed to interrupt Dean’s flood of explanation in favor of an actual two-way conversation.  _Can you show me what you sound like?_ she asked.  _Usually?  When you’re not talking to us?_

 _Yeah, sure,_ Dean said.  Like it was nothing.  Maybe it was.  For all that Anna seemed practiced at it, the how of human-ship communication wasn’t emphasized at the academy.  It was talked around and taken for granted until they as students had become convinced of its insignificance.

She wondered how many students suddenly found themselves in the position of ship captain, with no idea how they got there and no instructions for where to start.

 _Almost none of them,_ Dean said.  _No one becomes a captain right out of the academy.  We choose them, you know.  Can’t choose someone you don’t know._

 _Almost?_ Castiel repeated.

 _We only have an hour,_ Dean said, and it was meant to be a joke but Castiel could sense the impatience behind it.

 _Very well,_ Castiel thought.  _I’m afraid I didn’t follow most of what you were saying about dreams.  Is that important?_

_Only if you don’t want to be freaked out the next time you close your eyes._

Of course she closed her eyes.

All she saw was Dean looking back at her, and she blinked once to make sure she’d actually closed her eyes in the first place.  That was when she realized there was no one in front of her.  She closed her eyes again, and sure enough: she was facing Dean on the floor of Anna’s living quarters.

Castiel reached out to touch her.

“Might not want to do that,” Dean said, and she was talking.  The ship was a she, the ship was a woman, and she was sitting in front of Castiel.  Talking to her.

Castiel hesitated, hand outstretched, and Dean shrugged.  Like any other human would, like it was a normal part of her body language.  “You can,” she said.  “I’m just not sure what happens when you do.  Your brain either accepts it or it doesn’t, and either way might be a little weird.”

“I don’t understand what you mean by that,” Castiel said carefully.  She didn’t understand what any of it meant, but she could see for herself that Dean was there.  Or that she perceived Dean to be there.  She was perfectly content being confused if it meant she got to stare a little longer.

She did let her hand fall, and she thought Dean looked disappointed.  “It just means that an interspecies interface is unpredictable,” Dean said.  “I probably shouldn’t even try it without Hester or someone around, but what are they going to do?  Tell me if you stop breathing?  Pretty sure I’ll catch that myself.”

“Is that likely?” Castiel asked.

“I hope not,” Dean said.  “I don’t know; I’ve only done it with one other human being and she didn’t keel over, so.  Let’s go with no.”

“Anna,” Castiel said.

“Once,” Dean said.  “Well, twice.  It’s a lot slower than the way we usually talk, so she doesn’t think it’s efficient.”

“How is it slower?”  Castiel would have frowned, except she was still looking at Dean.  Trying to memorize her.  Trying to look through her to the voice and the stories behind the face, a little disconcerted by how normal it looked to her.  “Why do you look human?”

“Takes longer for the brain to sort through conflicting signals,” Dean said.  “Mine too, not just yours.  I don’t look human, except to you.  To me you look like an angel.”

She understood that this wasn’t intended as a compliment, but she couldn’t quite make the connection.  “An angel,” she repeated.  “I look like… you?”  That would make the most sense, but it still required her to assume that Dean could somehow override all of her physical senses and provide similar but contradictory sensory input directly to her brain.

“We don’t actually call ourselves ships,” Dean said, and her smile was pretty and bright and apparently genuine.  “It comes across as ‘angel’ if you actually bother to translate it.  Most people don’t.”

“You do have wings,” Castiel said.  Even if she didn’t, not like this.  Dean had blonde hair and green eyes and ship-style clothes, and Castiel had to wonder where the image came from.  Was this, too, a product of her own imagination?

“Sure,” Dean said.  “We come from the heavens, right?  It works for me.  But I guess ‘angels in service’ didn’t have the same ring.  Or maybe it was just too creepy; that whole ‘in service’ thing isn’t my favorite part of the name.”

“We could change it,” Castiel offered.  She had no idea how to go about doing such a thing, but they could at least use something different while they were with Dean.  On the ship.

“It’s fine,” Dean said, and she was smiling again.  “Choose your battles, right?  I’d much rather have them give me who I ask for than call me what I want.”

“Is that why you withhold your name?” Castiel asked.  “To keep people from getting it wrong?”

“Anyone who talks to me can use my name,” Dean insisted.  “It’s not that hard.”

She sounded a little petulant, so Castiel offered, “I find it quite pleasant, actually.”

Dean grinned at her.  “Yeah?  How about this?  Worth it, or too weird?”

“Very worth it,” Castiel said.  “I have no idea what you’re doing, and I don’t care.  Can you do it more often?”

“Maybe,” Dean said.  “Depends how you feel when you wake up.  Anna says it’s not quite as benign as it feels when you’re in here; it made her eyes weird for hours afterwards.”

Castiel watched her speak, hair sliding over her shoulders while her hands moved.  She couldn’t feel as alarmed as she knew she should.  “This isn’t a good day for me to have things interfering with my vision, Dean.”

Dean shrugged it off.  “What day is, really.  It should be okay.  And I wanted to talk to you about that, anyway.  The whole leaving the ship thing.”

“The doing my job thing?” Castiel repeated, amused by the evasive description.  “You’d rather I didn’t?”

“Of course I’d rather you didn’t,” Dean said.  “I want to keep you right here.  But I’m guessing that’s not an option, so we should go over best ways to get my attention in an emergency.”

“The point of my presence is to prevent emergencies,” Castiel said.

“Well, the point of my presence is to keep you all in space,” Dean said.  “But even angels have to land sometime.”

Castiel smiled.  “That’s very poetic.”

“Is it?”  Dean looked intrigued.  “That’s good to know.  I’m not great with the creative part of your language; I mostly just mimic other people.”

“You do it convincingly,” Castiel said.

Dean shrugged it off.  “My role models don’t suck,” she said.  “So the first way to get my attention is to lose your pager.  You probably guessed I can tell when you have it and when you don’t.  Lose it, and I’ll assume you’re in trouble.”

Castiel wondered what her being in trouble would prompt Dean to do, but she knew enough to recognize an upsetting question before she said it.  She expected Dean to get it anyway, to notice her thinking it, but Dean went on without commenting.  Maybe they interacted differently this way?  Too much conflicting sensory input making it hard to focus on any one thing?

“The second way is to get your name in the station computer system in association with something bad,” Dean was telling her.  “My sister is amazing with computer hacks, but you didn’t hear that from me.  I also didn’t tell you that I have all kinds of ways around data security, and I use them to keep an eye on the crew wherever they go.”

This time Castiel asked her question out loud.  Or whatever passed for it right now, given that her eyes were closed and she was seeing just fine.  She couldn’t assume that she was really hearing what she thought she was hearing, either.

“You mean wherever they go on assignment?” she asked.  “Or wherever they go forever?”

“I don’t stalk people who don’t want to be stalked,” Dean told her.  “Not without a good reason.”

“So, forever,” Castiel guessed.  It made sense; how could Dean care that much and then just turn it off because someone she cared about moved on?  “You track Anna’s crew even after they’ve left for other ships?”

“Our crew doesn’t go to other ships,” Dean said with a frown.  “Except once, and that was a family thing.  Mostly they get tired of traveling, or pregnant, or promoted or something.”

“And you keep track of them,” Castiel said.

“Yeah.”  Dean looked defensive about it, but she didn’t deny it when confronted.  “I’ll watch out for you too, unless you tell me not to.”  She paused, not quite long enough for Castiel to say anything.  “Don’t tell me not to.”

Castiel smiled, and after a moment, Dean nodded.

“Okay, so.  It’s harder to follow you on station cameras, but I’ve been known to do it.  If you can help me out by saying your name or something, that’ll give me something to trace.”

It wasn’t that it didn’t make sense.  It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it.  But the more Dean talked about the things that could go wrong, the more Castiel wondered how safe the ship itself was.  “Dean,” she said, possibly interrupting.  It was hard to say how much more Dean wanted to cover.  “How do I help you?  If something goes wrong?”

“Just let me know you’re in trouble,” Dean said.  “I’ll figure it out from there.”

“No,” Castiel said.  “How do you let me know if you’re in trouble?  How much can I monitor from my pager?”

Dean opened her mouth, but she didn’t say anything.  Castiel wondered if that was a trick of the illusion she was seeing, or if it actually represented the ship’s speechlessness.  “I assume you don’t think crew security only applies to humans,” Castiel said.

“No,” Dean said quickly.  “Right.  I can set your pager up to detect shipboard alarms, if you want?”

“Yes,” Castiel said.  “Including lockdown and quarantine.”  They weren’t technically alarms, and she wasn’t sure how literally Dean would interpret her offer.

“Sure,” Dean said.  “Can you bump up the ID protocols on your pager, though?  If I give your pager secure access, I’d like to be sure it’s you using it.”

“Of course.”  Castiel looked around for her pager before she realized two things.  One, the room they were in wasn’t completely faithful to the original, and two, her pager was one of the casualties.  As soon as she noticed, she wondered if doing something to it now would even be effective.

“Wait ’til you’re out,” Dean said.  “It won’t work here anyway.”

“You’re not reading my mind here,” Castiel said.  There was no other explanation for Dean repeating something she’d already thought with no acknowledgement.

“I’m not technically reading your mind out there,” Dean said, but she looked smug and pleased and secretly entertained.  Or not so secretly.  She liked being called a mindreader, certainly.  “We’re just communicating more directly.  It works great when the channel’s narrow, but when we open it up like this it’s harder to sort through everything.”

That made more sense than it might have, and she thought that the mindreading still happened.  It was just overwhelmed by everything else.  “I’d like to touch you,” she said abruptly.  She didn’t think she had much sense of time like this, but it felt like Dean did.  It felt much later than it should be when she tried to imagine it, and she was sure they had to go.

She wanted to know this first.  In case she never got another chance.

“Yeah,” Dean said.  “That’d be good.  I hope.”

Castiel didn’t bother asking.  Dean hadn’t told her before; there wasn’t any reason to think she’d share now.  And whatever had happened with Anna, she was someone else.  She needed to see for herself.

She reached out and put her hand on Dean’s shoulder.  Dean only appeared to draw in a breath after she’d done it, which either meant she’d startled the ship with her speed or something about the touch itself surprised Dean.  It didn’t surprise Castiel.  Except in that it felt completely human: like touching anyone, and she definitely thought they should have done this before.  As soon as they’d realized they could.

“Does it feel okay?” Castiel asked.  To you, she meant.  It felt fine to her, but Dean still hadn’t moved, and Castiel didn’t dare brush her hair back until she had some indication that the gesture would be welcomed.

Dean just nodded, her eyes changed as Castiel watched.  Shading from green to blue.  It was the only reminder of the ship that she could see, and she missed it with a suddenness that she didn’t understand.  Dean was right there.  Castiel could feel her, could hear her thinking if she tried very hard.  She couldn’t miss something she had.

“Are you sure?”  Castiel let her fingers slide into blonde hair, smiling at how smooth it felt.  Dean’s shirt was soft under her hand, muted warmth and resistance through the fabric as Castiel brushed the hair off of her shoulder.  The tips of her fingers ghosted across the collar, and she slid her hand over bare skin to cup the back of Dean’s neck.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, dark eyes half-closed as she leaned into the touch.  “I’m sure.”

So Castiel put a hand on her other arm, rubbing gently over her sleeve the way Rachel did for her when she was particularly hopeless.  “You feel just like you look,” she said, for lack of anything more informative to share.

Dean turned her head, pressing her mouth against the inside of Castiel’s arm.  It felt warm and gentle, and it tickled a little when Dean whispered, “So do you.”

That made Castiel smile, trying to imagine what Dean was seeing.  She knew what Dean looked like: she had media pictures and a few videos from promotional jaunts and one documentary.  She had never asked Anna to send her a real one, a personal one, because no one else did and she worried it might be inappropriate.

She might be able to change that today.  Ships in service didn’t typically dock, although they were physically capable of it: they complained of strain and boredom when they did, so the larger spaceports had pressurized facilities to accommodate them.  Castiel would disembark briefly today, and she saw no reason she couldn’t get a picture when she did so.

“Hey,” Dean murmured, lips brushing against her elbow.  “Me.  Focus.”

“I’m thinking about you,” Castiel told her.  “Can’t you tell?”

“You’re not petting me,” Dean said.  “Go back to that.”

Castiel stopped wondering how the action would translate and just scooted forward, wrapping her arms all the way around the woman in front of her.  She felt Dean suck in a sharp breath and she wished she could see what those eyes were doing now.  Had they changed color again?  Had they closed all the way?

She wasn’t curious enough to let go.  She felt Dean hugging her back in seconds, the pause noticeable but insignificant.  It was kind and comforting, everything she knew Dean to be and nothing she had expected to feel so familiar.  She could never hug a ship.  They were huge and awe-inspiring and… a little bit untouchable.

A lot untouchable.

Except Dean wasn’t.  She was here, and she was holding Castiel, and if they could just stay this way Castiel thought that she might stop questioning the point of everything.  This, right here, was purpose enough for her.

“Hour’s up,” Dean murmured in her ear.  “You have to go.”

“Why do I have to go?”  Castiel didn’t move.  “Why don’t you have to go?”

She thought it had probably been more than an hour.  Whatever it felt like, she could sense Dean’s restlessness, coupled with reluctance, and that had to mean that Dean felt guilty about something.  Communication was slower here, she said.  Perception of time must speed up accordingly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Dean said.  Her chest rose and fell with her breathing, and her voice was a pleasant hum that Castiel never got from the computer.  It didn’t even sound this way in her head.  “They’re expecting you on the station.”

Where she was supposed to be looking out for Anabel and Katahdiel.  She squeezed Dean tighter without thinking, felt it returned just before she loosened her grip and tried to shift away.  “I do have to go,” she admitted.  She didn’t want to, but her role on this ship was important and inevitable.

“Do you like security?” Dean asked, not letting go.  “You always said it’s what you’re meant to do, but I know why you think that.”

The ship paused long enough for Castiel to freeze, torn between pushing back and letting herself be pulled in.

“We take care of each other here,” Dean said.  “All of us.  It’s not any one person’s responsibility.  I don’t want you to take on stuff that isn’t yours.”

“It is mine,” Castiel said, pushing again.  This time Dean let her slip free, one hand falling to Castiel’s knee and the other touching her cheek gently.  “The same way it’s yours.  I want to keep you safe.”

“Same here,” Dean said.  “Don’t forget.”

That Dean wanted to keep her safe?  She was unlikely to forget something so precious.

“I won’t,” she said anyway, and then she heard Anna’s voice.

“Castiel,” Anna said, which was strange because Anna had just left and she’d been trying to make Castiel stay.  Or so it had seemed.  Perhaps they’d misread the situation, or maybe it had just been longer than she realized.

“Yes?”  It wasn’t until she looked up that she realized there were colors around her again.  That the colors had been gone.  Now Dean was gone and the colors were back and Castiel frowned in confusion.  “Dean?”

 _Still here,_ Dean’s voice said inside her head.  _You feeling okay?  Tell Anna I did the holographic thing; she’ll understand._

“Are you all right?” Anna was asking.  The tone was strange, and Castiel thought that if she were Rachel she might be able to interpret it.  It sounded cautious, somehow.  Not entirely friendly.

 _Tell her,_ Dean urged.  _You look normal; she can’t tell.  She thinks we’re messing with her._

“Dean says,” Castiel began, but she couldn’t quite find the words.  “I’m supposed to tell you.  She was just here.  Am I late?  I didn’t mean to be.”

“Tell me what?”  Anna was looking around the room.  The walls were bright and mostly blue, save for a bright yellow splash of something right next to Anna.  She put her hand on it easily, maybe a little impatiently, and suddenly Castiel knew that she wasn’t just late.  She was actively missing.

 _It’s my fault,_ Dean said.  _I did the holographic thing.  I lost track of time; it’s my bad._

Anna was gone, Anna was there, Castiel blinked at the suddenness of the transition.  Anna wasn’t in her head anymore.  Anna was kneeling next to her, peering at her with what seemed like an unwarranted amount of concern.  “Castiel,” she repeated.  “Are you all right?”

She sounded much kinder this time: more worried, less wary.  Dean had said something about the effects being strange, causing problems for Anna when she tried it.  Castiel held up her hands, testing her vision and her range of motion at the same time.  “Yes,” she said, before she had formed a final conclusion.

She moved again, unfolding her legs, but nothing problematic occurred.  Her balance seemed fine, and there wasn’t anything wrong with her hearing.  “I’m fine,” she said, with a little more conviction.  “I’m sorry we got so distracted.  It was my fault as much as it was Dean’s.”

“You think you’re fine,” Anna said.  “How many fingers?”

She held up three fingers, so Castiel said obediently, “Three,” even though it was a useless test that offered little practical information.  She let Anna help her to her feet – still bare – and she heard Dean apologize again in her head.

 _Sorry to get Anna pissed,_ Dean muttered.  _She’s right; I shouldn’t have just done it like that._

“I’m fine,” Castiel insisted, and it was directed at both of them.  “Dean, you don’t have to apologize to me.  Anna, I’m sorry, this was very unprofessional of us.  How late is it?”

“Late enough that Anabel’s going to have to wait,” Anna said.  “Unless Rachel can go in your place.  Is she ready?”

Castiel wanted to object: this was her job, she could do it.  But it was Anna’s decision, and Rachel was just as capable.  “Yes,” she said simply.

“I want you to go see Hester,” Anna said.  “I’ll send Rachel to you while Dean takes us in, and I’ll tell Anabel to expect her at the airlock.”

Castiel nodded.  “Very well.”

“Dean,” Anna added.  “I would say, I assume you know what to look for, but I would have assumed you knew better before this, so maybe that’s not worth much.”

The walls darkened.  The colored light disappeared completely, replaced by a single flat white light that flicked on behind Anna’s hammock.  It cast odd shadows across the now–colorless floor, and the computer said, “A, I wouldn’t hurt Cas.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me either,” Anna said.  “But things happen.”

“Things always happen,” Castiel said.  She hated that phrase, and she wouldn’t hear it turned on Dean.  “Dean didn’t do anything I didn’t want.”

“Well, your ability to make rational decisions is still in question,” Anna snapped.  “The ship’s interface is organic and unpredictable.  Dean shouldn’t have opened it up like that without medical observation on you at all times.”

“Dean was watching me,” Castiel argued.

“Human medical observation,” Anna said.  “Go see Hester, please.  I need to talk to Dean.”

She was still wearing her pajamas, but she assumed that taking clothes with her would be more awkward than leaving without them.  And it gave her an excuse to return, in case Anna decided they were done here.  _Don’t leave me,_ she thought at Dean.

 _Never,_ Dean told her, just before she stepped off the warm part of the floor and back onto the shell.

“Tell Hester to do a full physical,” Anna called after her.

Castiel didn’t answer.  She checked her pager as soon as she turned the corner and found two things: the time, which was a good three hours since Anna had last seen them, and yet another message from Dean.  She hadn’t read the others, but this was stuffed into the space that clearing the three read messages had left: _She’s not mad at us,_ it said.  _She’s just worried._

 _Okay,_ she sent back, because she felt like it deserved a response.  She didn’t know what else to say.  If Anna decided that she and Dean weren’t any good for each other…

She didn’t know.  There was nothing else.  She would stay as long as she could, but it was Anna’s crew.  If she wanted Castiel gone, she would have to go.

Hester didn’t seem surprised to see her.  Since Hester didn’t ask, Castiel didn’t offer an explanation.  She didn’t even bother to pass on Anna’s instruction, because Hester seemed inclined to do it without prompting.

Her pager chimed again while she was sitting there.  Hester actually stepped back, nodding to her, and Castiel freed the device reluctantly.  What was she supposed to say?

 _Don’t look so sad,_ the message told her.  _She’s over it; we’re fine.  Rachel’s on her way._

Hester raised an eyebrow when Castiel looked at her, so she typed back, _How do you know I look sad?_

The pager chimed immediately, followed by the “memory full” notification.  _I just do.  Read your messages so I can delete them._

She could upload them to something with more space.  She probably should have done that before.  Right now, though, Hester was waiting impatiently so she set the pager aside.  She saw it blink as Dean deleted the two messages she’d obviously read, but no new ones appeared.

Hester ultimately pronounced her fine, without asking for or offering any details.  Castiel didn’t want to talk about it, so she was glad Rachel arrived before she had to wait.  Possibly making awkward conversation in the meantime.  Hester didn’t seem like the type, but people behaved in unexpected ways when left to their own devices.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked as soon as she walked in.

“I got distracted with Dean and was late to work,” Castiel said.  It was the whole of the truth, as far as she was concerned.  Dean hadn’t done anything wrong, there was nothing physically different about her, and Anna’s decision to remove her from dockside security might stem from any number of things.  It wasn’t up to her to speculate.

“Really late,” Rachel agreed.  “But there’s nothing wrong with you?”

“No,” Castiel said.  She didn’t look at Hester, and neither did Rachel.  Which probably said something about their loyalty to each other above the crew, and she wondered how atypical it was to place to graduates from the same class together on their first assignment.

“If you’re curious,” Hester said dryly, “I concur.”

Castiel did look at her then, and Hester added, “I can see that my opinion isn’t the important one here, but all your vitals are within the acceptable range.  Whatever Dean did, it didn’t affect you the way it affected Anna.”

So Anna had told her.  To expect Castiel, and what to look for.  Castiel wondered who else on the ship had been notified, and how thoroughly.

“Thank you,” she told Hester.

Hester only inclined her head, and then Katahdiel was there.  She looked first at Hester, then at Castiel.  “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

Castiel frowned at her.  “Rachel was to meet you at the airlock.”

“No, Kat,” Hester said, stepping back and waving her in.  “You might as well join us.”

“Thank you,” Kat said.  Looking to Castiel, she added, “Rachel was to meet Anabel.  There was no instruction about me, so Anabel sent me to find out what’s going on.”

“Besides,” Rachel added, “I’m here.  So technically, no one’s in violation yet.”

“It’s not violation,” Kat said.  “It’s just curiosity.  Anabel prefers Castiel for this excursion, and she says she’s willing to wait if there’s no actual health issue.”

Castiel had no idea what to do with that.  She looked at Rachel helplessly, but it was Hester who answered.  “There’s no health issue,” she said.  “Unless you consider Castiel’s tendency to wander around barefoot and endanger herself with exposure to vacuum a health issue, which frankly, I’m still on the fence about.”

“Anabel says that mostly happens in her off time,” Kat said.  “If it doesn’t affect her work, it’s fine.”

“It affected my work today,” Castiel said.  “I was late.”

“Very late,” Kat agreed, echoing Rachel.  Presumably without realizing it.  “It takes a while to get used to ship life.  But the ship likes you, and we figure that means you’ll get there quicker than most.  If we wait, will you come with us?”

Castiel looked at Rachel.

“I’m prepped for ship security,” Rachel said.  “Not station.”

“Yes, sorry,” Kat said, as though she’d only just thought of how her “curiosity” could be interpreted.  “It’s not a problem with you, Rachel.  It’s just a matter of procedure: we prepped with Castiel, we’d rather go with her.  No offense meant.”

Rachel shrugged.  “None taken.”

Castiel looked at Hester, who said nothing.  “Anna told me to stay,” she said.  “Is there a procedure for asking her to reconsider?”

“Yes,” Hester said.  “But it has to come from you.”

She wasn’t surprised.  Anna seemed like she ran the sort of operation that allowed for questions, and Dean certainly didn’t seem fond of authority.  The fact that she had to be the one to ask was new to her, but she supposed it was fair.  The initial fault was her responsibility; the request to reconsider consequences should be as well.

Castiel picked up her pager to find another message from Dean waiting for her.

 _Anabel’s asking for you,_ it said.  _Try telling A you’re fine and it won’t happen again._

She smiled a little, but she ignored the message in favor of typing her own.  _Hester cleared me,_ she sent to Anna.  _Is there anything I can do to convince you I should be the one to go?_

She received a one-word message from Anna in reply: _Try._

 _Rachel and I are prepped for the jobs we were assigned,_ Castiel wrote.  _Anabel sent Kat to tell me they’re willing to wait.  Dean says I should promise it will never happen again, but that seems rash._

 _That’s all,_ she added, and looked up to find everyone watching her.

“We do have an intercom system,” Hester remarked.

Castiel and Rachel exchanged glances, but it was Kat who seemed to understand.

“Less private,” she said.  “Easier to make an argument to one person than to one person and their audience.”

Rachel gave her an amused look.  “Did everyone on this ship take the course in interpersonal communication?”

Kat gave the look right back.  “Didn’t you?”

“Are graduates filtered based on their presumed ability to integrate with a small, close-knit community?” Castiel asked.

“Of course they are,” Hester said.  “What do you think deep space missions are?  Dance parties?”

“Then why was I chosen?” Castiel asked, just as her pager chimed again.

She looked down on it to find another one-word message: _Fine,_ Anna said.

“If you have to ask that question,” Hester said, “you’re not as integral as we think you are.”

Another message from Anna arrived, and Castiel’s pager warned her the memory was full again.  _Give Anabel an ETA and meet her at the airlock when you’re ready.  Be on time._

“I thought she was chosen because Dean likes her,” Rachel said.

“Dean doesn’t like people who don’t get along with the crew,” Hester replied.

Castiel deleted the last message before she replied, _Yes ma’am._

Anna’s answer came back immediately.  _Ha ha,_ it said.

Castiel smiled, and a message from Dean popped up just as fast.  _Nice job._

“I have to get dressed,” Castiel said, looking up.  “And stop by security.  Anna gave her approval, but I’ll need an hour before I’m ready to go.”

“Good,” Kat said.  “We’ll update our schedule and meet you then.”

“Don’t talk to Dean,” Rachel added.

“It’s not Dean’s fault I’m late,” Castiel said, standing up.

Her pager chimed, a double beep indicating full memory again, and the words on the screen just said, _Yes it is._

“She says it is,” Castiel offered, looking up in time to catch Kat’s odd expression.  “She’s wrong.”

She didn’t have to look to know the last five messages had been deleted before her pager chimed again.  _You’re wrong,_ Dean said.

“Dean, stop it,” Castiel told her pager.  “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

Another message appeared: _You can’t walk and talk at the same time?  Come on._

“You call the ship Dean,” Kat said, and Castiel assumed this was directed at her.

“The ship asked me to,” she said, lifting her head.  As she did so, she realized Kat was looking at Rachel.

“She asked me to,” Rachel agreed.

“Who?” Kat asked.

“The ship,” Rachel said.

Kat didn’t look any clearer on the situation.  “You said ‘she.’”

Here Rachel looked at Castiel, which was a nice thought but Castiel hadn’t given any more thought to explanations than she had.  “Dean says she wishes to be considered female,” she said, but it sounded awkward and she added, “Dean.  You should really answer these questions.”

Her pager chimed, but when she looked down all it said was, _Kat didn’t ask me._

It was probably fair, from Dean’s point of view.  But Castiel suspected that, as far as Katahdiel was concerned, the ship hadn’t indicated the question was welcome.  She didn’t know what to do other than hold her pager up for Kat to see, and to let her take it from Castiel’s hand when she frowned.

“Is this…”  Kat paused, and Castiel wondered what was so confusing.  “From the ship?”

Castiel almost nodded before it occurred to her to say, “Dean?  I think Kat just asked you a question.”

She heard her own pager chime.  Kat looked down at it, still holding the device like she wasn’t sure which way was up.  Which made no sense, given that it was a standard-issue pager.  Kat must have another just like it, but she stared at it like she’d never seen one before.

“Are we supposed to call you Dean?” Kat asked at last.

There was the double beep of a received message and the full memory warning, and Castiel felt the need to say, “I haven’t deleted yesterday’s messages.  That’s why it keeps running out of space.”

Kat gave her an incredulous look.  “The ship sent you that many messages yesterday?”

“Yes,” Castiel said.

There was another chime, and Kat frowned at the pager she was holding.  “It’s still full.”

“It wasn’t Castiel’s pager,” Rachel said.

Kat looked confused for a moment before reaching for her own.  “Oh,” she said, on reading the message there.  “That doesn’t really tell me anything, but thanks for the answer?”

“Dean,” Castiel said.  “The rest of us have no idea what you’re telling her.”

A synthesized voice interrupted the conversation to say, “Thought I wasn’t supposed to talk to you.”

“You’re not,” Castiel said.  “May I have my pager back?  I need to go.”

Kat looked from one pager to the other before handing Castiel’s over, and Castiel had both of the messages Dean had sent her: _Yes.  They’re from Dean,_ followed by, _When you’re talking to me you are._   Not the friendliest introduction, but everyone on the ship seemed to embrace the “say what you mean” philosophy and it clearly started with Dean.

“If you’re not going to read your messages,” the computer’s voice said, “and you’re not going to delete them, at least let me store them for you.  So I can talk to you while you’re on the station.”

“I’ve been talking to you ever since you sent them,” Castiel reminded her.  “Did you expect me to ignore you so I could read texts from you instead?”

“Not the question,” the voice replied.

“There wasn’t a question,” Castiel said.

“I’m starting to understand how you could be two hours late and not notice,” Rachel said.

“Enough messages to fill your pager’s memory?” Hester said.

“I didn’t read them,” Castiel said.

“I was trying to make a point,” the computer’s voice offered.

“What point was that?” Hester wanted to know.  Then she held up her hand.  “Never mind.  Castiel, if Kat’s late to the airlock it’ll be her first offense.  If you’re late, it’s your second, so if I were you I’d get moving.”

Castiel stepped past them, but behind her she heard the computer saying, “The point is that I don’t like being ignored.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” she called back.

“Not talking to you now,” the voice replied.  It sounded about as cheerful as a computer could sound, so she smiled and kept walking.

Her pager chimed before she could reach Anna’s quarters.  She probably shouldn’t even go in, but the clothes she’d expected to wear were in there and she wanted them.  She did check her pager, because as Dean pointed out, the ship had ways of not being ignored.

 _Seriously,_ the screen said.  _Can I move these messages so that I can communicate more than three lines worth of text to you at a time?_

“Yes,” she said, entering the room.  The walls sparkled at her in shades of blue and darker blue, and she tried to ignore them while she found her bag and changed her clothes.  Dean didn’t say anything else, but when she looked at her pager again its memory was only at a quarter capacity.  She had to wonder what sort of messages they were that they’d taken up that much space.

“Thank you,” Castiel said aloud.  “I still want to read them.”

It was the voice of the computer that responded.  “I know,” it said.  “I saved them for you.”

She couldn’t resist running her hand over the skin of the ship before she left, and she got warmth and reassurance and a very clear _good luck_ before she let go.  She tried to convey _thanks_ with the same in return.  The flicker of deep blue let her know the message had been received.

Castiel wanted to ask about the colors, wanted to ask a hundred things, but that curiosity was what had gotten them in trouble earlier.  She heard her pager chime – twice – as she headed for security, and she gave the ceiling a reproving look without thinking about it.  Her pager chimed a third time.

She still wasn’t quite ready to speak out loud to the ship as she walked down the paths of the shell, so she pulled her pager out before Dean could fill it up again.  _It wasn’t curiosity,_ the screen said.  _It was academic and professional interest._   The next message said, _Best guess, your facial expressions are like our colors.  If that helps._   And finally, _Oh, I’m in the ceiling now?  I’m more under you than over you, you know._

She could type and walk, but she didn’t want to.  It would look only slightly more professional than talking to herself, and it would slow her down.  On the other hand, if she ignored Dean, who knew what would happen.

She reached out and patted the membrane of the shell as she rounded a corner.

At first there was no response.  She made it to security before her pager chimed again.  She sighed, looking down at it, but the screen only said one thing.

_Thanks._

Castiel hesitated.  The terminal in front of her was only peripherally connected to the shell.  So she leaned over and patted the membrane again.  It was probably her imagination, but it felt as though it vibrated slightly under her hand.

By the time she got to the airlock, her hour was almost up and she’d only received one more message from Dean.  Rachel had joined her before she left, to officially take over ship security in her absence, and Kat and Anabel were both waiting for her when she arrived.  She nodded to them, ready to let the silence stand, but Anabel said, “Thanks for coming.”

“Thank you for waiting,” Castiel said, surprised into reciprocating.

Kat extracted her pager and handed it over without a word.  Castiel gave her a puzzled look, but she took the device when it was clear Kat meant her to.  It had a single message on the screen, clearly from Dean: _Take care of her for me._

Castiel raised an eyebrow.  “I’m relatively certain that’s my job,” she said, to no one in particular.

The pager in her hand chimed immediately.  So did the one in her pocket, and there was an identical sound from Anabel’s direction.  Castiel glanced at Kat’s before handing it back, then looked at her own.  They all said the same thing: _You’re great at taking care of other people, Cas.  You kind of suck at taking care of yourself._

“Is this from –”  Anabel stopped before she could finish the sentence, and Castiel wondered if Kat had told her what happened in medical.  She wondered what _had_ happened in medical.  Was Kat now allowed to speak to Dean the way Rachel did?

Was everyone?

All of their pagers chimed again.  _It’s from me,_ the message on Castiel’s said.  _You can call me Dean when you’re talking to me._

Anabel was the first one to notice the distinction.  “But not when we’re talking about you to other people?”

Dean didn’t answer directly.  The message that arrived on their pagers next just said, _I can hear you, you know._

“Yes,” Anabel said.  “That’s why I asked.”

“She means when we’re not on the ship,” Castiel guessed.  “Of course we’ll talk to you when we’re here.”

Dean’s reply was noncommittal.  _You say that like everyone does it, Cas._

“I didn’t even know we could talk to you,” Kat said.  “I thought you only talked to Anna.”

 _I only talk to people who talk to me,_ Dean replied.

“Well, get ready to be a lot more chatty,” Anabel said.  “I know a lot of people who’d like to ask you things.”

There was no reply, and Anabel gave Castiel a look that didn’t make any sense.  Castiel frowned at her, confused, and Anabel winced.  “Sorry,” she said.  “Was that rude?”

Castiel blinked.  “It seems unlikely, given the context within which communication usually occurs on this ship.”  She wasn’t sure why they would ask her, in any case.  She wasn’t exactly an expert on social niceties.

“Okay,” Anabel said.  Like that was enough of an answer.  “Should we go, then?”

“I’ll follow your schedule,” Castiel said.  “If you’re ready, so am I.”

“I mean, because – the ship hasn’t answered.”  Anabel seemed more uncertain than Castiel had ever seen her.  Which wasn’t saying much, since they hadn’t interacted often two years ago and she hadn’t seen Anabel again until today.  “Is it rude to just leave?”

“I don’t think Dean is overly concerned with rudeness,” Castiel said.  Just loneliness, she thought suddenly.  That was what made her seem sensitive to the slight of being ignored.  She hadn’t realized it until now, and she didn’t think it was her place to share such understanding.  “If she is, she can certainly chastise us for it on the station as easily as she might do it here.”

Kat, at least, smiled at that.  “I guess that’s true,” she agreed.  “As long as we check our pagers.”

“I have explicit instructions to do just that,” Castiel said.  She wasn’t joking, but Kat laughed anyway.  Before she could ask why, all of their pagers chimed simultaneously.

 _Busy with the station computer,_ the message said on Castiel’s screen said.  _I’ll try to track you through the video feed.  Be careful._

Castiel looked at the others, holding up her pager to see if they’d all received the same message.  Kat and Anabel turned theirs around too, and Castiel glanced up at the ceiling.  “It’s hardly the untamed frontier, Dean.  We’ll be fine.”

Their pagers chimed before she’d even finished speaking.  _Don’t make me use that as your epitaph, Cas._

“I’m sure you’d come up with something more creative,” Castiel said.

 _You think you’re funny,_ Dean replied, and once again it went to all of them.  _But you’re not._

Castiel didn’t think she was funny at all, but she recognized an endless argument when she saw one.  She let Dean have the last word, since it seemed to be the only way to make her stop talking, and she nodded to Anabel.  The cycling of the airlock was an inconvenient formality in an environment like this, but there was no way around it.

When they stepped out of the shell, Castiel decided that she owed Anabel for insisting on her presence.  The station hangar in which they found themselves had clearly been designed for the sole purpose of housing ships in service.  Not something that had been adapted after the fact, this was an organic facility with warm floors and glowing walls.  There were colors everywhere.

Castiel wondered if Dean would take pictures for her.  It didn’t seem very professional to do it herself while she was working.  That wouldn’t stop her from preserving an image of Dean as they returned, but Dean should be able to get everything else more subtly than she could.

Katahdiel led the way while they were on the station.  Anabel did the buying, and most of the meeting, but Kat acted like she was the one making decisions.  Castiel didn’t ask.  Her role was only to keep them safe, and if she got a tour out of it, she didn’t get as much time as she would have liked to enjoy it.

But it was better than being confined to the ship.

A sentiment Dean might not appreciate, she thought.  She should find a way to express it without sounding so ungrateful.  Dean would be curious about her excursion later, of course, and her enjoyment of freedom would inevitably surface.  What could she say that Dean would understand?

What could she say that Dean wouldn’t understand, really.  The ship sensed her reaction electrically; surely she was as good a detector of truth as anything humans could invent.  Perhaps that was the real reason Anna’s crew seemed so blunt.  They were familiar with being unable to hide things.

She ate lunch with Kat and Anabel on the station, and the afternoon involved more walking and waiting in lines.  Castiel ended up talking to Kat several times while Anabel met or negotiated with someone.  Kat mentioned without being prompted that their apparent roles were the result of Anna’s personality typing, and Castiel thought she should stop being surprised about that.

“Anabel’s the one who knows what we need,” Kat said quietly, while they waited outside a shop too small to fit all three of them.  “But I’m better at directions and everyday interactions.  I like the noise, Anna says.  Anabel doesn’t.  You don’t seem like you do, either,” she added, and Castiel frowned.

“I’m perfectly capable of dealing with the situation,” she said.

“Right,” Kat agreed.  “We all are.  That’s why we’re here.  Doesn’t mean you should waste your energy on something that costs me less.”

“Your partnership with Anabel produces a net gain for the community,” Castiel said.

“Yes,” Kat said.  She paused, and Castiel thought it must be something unusually personal for a member of Anna’s crew to hesitate before speaking.  “Like you and the ship, maybe.  You keep us safe, and the ship keeps you safe.”

It hadn’t taken her long to develop a habit.  At the mention of Dean, she glanced at her pager.

“The ship really didn’t talk to us,” Kat said.

When Castiel looked at her curiously, Kat nodded at her pager.  “That’s new,” she said.  “I mean, I’ve heard of some ships that do it.  But never ours.  It was always Anna or nothing.”

“Not for the engineers,” Castiel said before she thought.  “Many of them speak to her.”

“I guess they do,” Kat admitted.  “I usually think of that as a trait of engineers, rather than something they do to interact with the ship.”

“They speak to her,” Castiel repeated.  “And she speaks back, in her own way.”

“That,” Kat said with a smile.  “That’s a very engineering thing to say.  ‘In her own way,’” she clarified when Castiel gave her another curious look.  “Engineers always seem to interpret things, vibrations and power surges and so forth.  As communication.”

“Often they are,” Castiel said.  “Dean can override the shell computer.  Why wouldn’t she be able to affect the rest of the electronics?”

Kat just stood there for a long moment.  “She takes over the intercom,” she said at last.  “I didn’t really think about what that meant.”

“It means that Dean is everywhere,” Castiel said.  “We all inhabit a shell she grew, and she’s always listening.  What else does she have to do?”

“Hi,” Anabel said, but Castiel was already straightening up from her careful slouch against the wall.  She knew how to look like something other than a bodyguard, and Kat was covering obviously enough for both of them.  “So, I thought we were only supposed to use Dean’s name when we’re talking to her.”

“I think Castiel is an exception,” Kat said, with a small smile that probably indicated she didn’t mind.  Castiel didn’t need that assurance, but Dean might appreciate it.

Or she might not.  Castiel still didn’t really understand Dean’s relationship with Anna’s crew.  She had thought the engineers made the most sense, communicating with the ship on a sub-verbal level much of the time.  But there were so many people who thought their conversation wasn’t welcome – that maybe, if pressed, there was no one to converse with at all.

“I think Dean wants her name used with respect,” Castiel said.  “No matter who uses it, or where.”

“Understood,” Anabel said.  Like it was an actual instruction.

Wasn’t it, she wondered in the privacy of her own mind?  It wasn’t her place to instruct them, of course.  Except as it pertained to their own safety, or that of another member of the crew.  But she wasn’t discussing Dean to offer perspective, useful though it might be.  She was doing it to change their actions, their ways of interacting, to better suit Dean’s needs.

“Has Dean always been a she?” Anabel was asking.  She said it carefully, curious but not cavalier.

“I don’t know,” Castiel said honestly.

“She says she identifies with women,” Kat offered.  “Maybe that’s not surprising, given all of us.  Or maybe we’re all here because of her.  Hard to say.”

“It’s new that we call her a woman, though,” Anabel said.  “Right?”

“I think some people on the ship have always thought of her that way,” Castiel said.  “But she didn’t ask me to do it until last night.”

“I just heard it this morning,” Kat agreed.

“I like it,” Anabel said.  “It seems more familiar.”

And amazingly, that was the end of the conversation about Dean.  Castiel supposed she thought every conversation would be about Dean because, if it were left up to her, it would be.  But Anabel and Kat had plenty of other things to cover, and by the time they returned to the ship that night, she’d heard more about Dean from her pager than she had from her shipmates.

For once, Dean hadn’t bombarded her with texts – _it’s not as fun if I can’t watch you read them,_ Dean said at one point, though Castiel couldn’t help thinking Dean was worried about distracting her in a foreign environment.  She still received brief updates about the ship’s status, and she sent her own when requested.

She didn’t forget to take a picture when they came back to the hangar.  It would have been hard to, given the awe she felt at seeing the massive ship in the midst of familiar colors and light.  Dean glowed, and for once Castiel thought that some of her own failures might have led her to so much less than she deserved.

Or more.  Dean would probably say more.

There was a welcoming party there to greet them at the airlock.  Outside the airlock, actually: it looked like everyone who could come up with an excuse to impede the hangar crews had used it to leave the shell.  Castiel knew exactly how many people had station passes today – all of them other than Anabel and Kat for safe, low-clearance areas – and thanks to pager tracking she knew where each of them was.

None of them was in the hangar.

Two thirds of the engineering crew were outside, drawing Castiel’s envy as they walked or otherwise inspected the edge of the shell.  She saw two of the medical staff, along with Nathaniel from security, and most of the life scientists.  There was no way those numbers weren’t a violation of hangar clearance.

Especially considering that Rachel and Jeremiel were there to meet her, and the life scientists swarmed around Anabel and Kat as soon as they appeared.  Their arrival only drew Anna’s crew farther from Dean’s assigned slip, cluttering the deck and interfering with the workers around them.  Castiel caught Rachel’s eye and tipped her head, indicating that they should move back.

Rachel agreed, ushering the group in, and Jeremiel helped them encourage everyone in the direction of the ship.  Anabel was clearly tired, which helped.  Kat was as useful as they were when it came to moving people in the right direction.  And strangely, Hanathel from engineering joined them on their way inside.

She lingered while Anabel and Kat moved off.  She didn’t say anything while Castiel and Rachel turned the day over to Jeremiel on night shift.  But when Castiel went to follow Rachel – somewhat reluctantly, if it had to be said – Hanathel intervened. 

“Castiel,” she said.  “I think the ship would like it if you joined us outside.”

That was enough for her.  “I’ll see you in the morning?” she said to Rachel.

But Rachel hesitated.  “Can I come?” she asked.  “Or is this a private thing?”

Castiel looked at Hanathel, who shrugged.  “Castiel used to work with us,” she said.  “I think the ship misses her on the hull.  That’s all.”

Castiel wondered if there could really be anyone in Anna’s crew who didn’t know about her recurring tendency to sleepwalk, even now.  “I miss it too,” she said, because that was honest at least.  “There’s no reason you can’t come if you want to.  I’m sure Hanathel will tell us where not to go.”

Hanathel eyed Rachel in a way that made Castiel think not everyone was as sanguine about her presence as Anna seemed to be.  Security had accepted her, because security was by its very nature a practical entity.  If someone wasn’t a threat, then they weren’t a threat.  Medical seemed to follow Hester’s lead in treating Rachel like Castiel’s keeper, and Castiel hadn’t looked much farther than that.

Perhaps that was a mistake.  Rachel should be accepted on her own merit, and though Castiel knew she had nothing to compare to Rachel in the way of making friends, she could at least not stand in the way.  So when Rachel obviously caught Hanathel’s look and began to say something, Castiel interrupted before she could speak.

“I’d like you to come,” she said firmly.  “Dean will be glad to see you as well.”

That was the end of the discussion, and she knew perfectly well that it was invoking Dean’s name that had done it.  Crew rumors were relatively accurate, as a general rule, and if Hanathel didn’t know that Castiel had been out on the edge of the shell two nights ago, she couldn’t fail to notice Castiel’s confidence in speaking for Dean.  That was a level of familiarity typically reserved for the ship’s captain.

Castiel didn’t want to tell anyone what to do.  But she wasn’t going to miss any time she could get with Dean, either.

Anna’s engineering team was mostly as she remembered it.  Any differences she attributed to the fact that she’d never been outside with them in a pressurized environment before.  If Rachel’s presence had anything to do with it, Castiel chose not to notice.

Dean made that easy.  Castiel wasn’t particularly good at introductions, so she stepped back while Hanathel called to each member of her team.  Rachel was introduced one at a time, and Castiel lifted a hand to run her fingers over the underside of Dean’s wing.

Dean was standing next to her with a suddenness that took her breath away, but nothing more so than the fierce hug she received before the hangar was empty again.  Empty of Dean.  Or at least Dean in human form, since the ship loomed over her like some kind of indomitable guardian.  The engineering crew had gathered, and Rachel was giving her an odd look.

“Does this mean you can’t listen to both of us at the same time?” Rachel asked.  Not the tone of someone who expected an answer, and Castiel wondered how long those few seconds of perception had lasted.

“No,” she said, and Rachel raised an eyebrow.  Castiel’s fingers were still resting against Dean’s skin, and she could feel the silent apology even as she rapped out a reassuring beat.  “Sometimes it’s louder than others.  I just… didn’t hear you.”

“You talk by touching?” Muriel asked.  She raised a hand over her head, mimicking Castiel, but she hesitated just before she made contact.  “Just like that?”

Castiel nodded, pressing her hand flat against Dean’s wing.  _Is it okay to encourage everyone to talk to you?_ she thought as clearly as she could.

 _Yeah, it’s cool,_ Dean answered.  Or at least, that was the feeling she got in return.  It was possible the words weren’t exact.  It was what Dean would have said, Castiel thought.  If she’d actually put it into words.

Dean wanted the company as much as Castiel was indifferent to it.  She wondered why Anna had never intervened with the crew, never nudged them toward interacting with Dean on a more significant level.  The engineering crew, at least, had frequent enough opportunity.

 _Hi,_ Dean offered, more enthusiastic than her response might have suggested.  Castiel wasn’t surprised, but Muriel yanked her hand away as soon as it happened.  Before her consciousness could do more than buzz the conversation with awareness.

“What was that?”  Muriel was staring at Castiel as though she needed to ask.  Had to hear the answer instead of experience it for herself.  Castiel frowned at her.

“That’s Dean,” she said, more sternly than she’d meant to.  Probably not sternly enough.  So the academy didn’t teach much about ship communication.  Hadn’t Anna told them anything?

“May I?” Rachel asked, raising her hand over her head.

Castiel stared at her without understanding.  “It’s not my permission to give,” she said, when Rachel seemed to be waiting for something.  “But Dean has indicated that conversation is welcome.”

Rachel barely brushed her fingers against the skin of the ship, but Castiel felt her presence immediately.  Steadier than Muriel – she’d braced herself, that much was obvious, but Rachel was naturally calm.  She didn’t even flinch when Dean said, _Hello Rachel._

Castiel felt her shoulders relax a little when Rachel’s voice answered, _Hi Dean.  Nice body you’ve got here._

The flash of colorful amusement was almost invisible in the bright light of the hangar, but two of the engineers looked up like they’d noticed and Castiel saw Rachel smile.  _Damn straight,_ Dean replied, and the ship felt very much like it was preening.  _You’re not so bad yourself._

Rachel’s smile was bright and pleased when she asked Castiel, “Is the ship flirting with me?”

“She’s very good with human patterns of speech,” Castiel said.  “English colloquialisms in particular.”

“Was that a yes?” Rachel teased.  Without waiting for an answer, she thought something that Castiel had no trouble overhearing: _I’m not after my roommate’s girl, but I’ll be part of any mutual admiration society you care to start._

 _Oh, I belong to Cas now?_   Dean sounded very happy with this idea.  _I think I like you._   “A lot” went without words, but the implication was unmistakable: that Dean appreciated anyone smart enough to be friends with Castiel.

“Clearly,” Castiel said aloud.  Even knowing that the people around them were only getting part of the conversation wasn’t enough to keep her from smiling back at Rachel.

“What was it like?” she heard someone asking Muriel, but her attention was taken up by a fourth voice.  Quiet and incomprehensible, she nonetheless recognized it as Kenndel.

 _Hello,_ Dean said.

Kenndel’s response was positive, if wordless.  More a receptive curiosity than a greeting, and Castiel wondered if it would be appropriate to offer a name.  Introductions, though.  Not what she was known for, Rachel would say.  Surely Dean would ask if she wanted to know.

 _Nice to meet you,_ Dean said, apparently in response to Kenndel’s inquiry.  _Anyone who’s talking to me can call me Dean._

This was met with a distinct sense of apology from Kenndel and confusion from Rachel.  Rachel wasn’t trying to share it, but it was hard to avoid the fact that she couldn’t understand Kenndel and wanted to know why.  Castiel managed to catch her eye.  “Not everyone thinks in words,” she said.

Kenndel had hung back when Hanathel was pointing out each of the engineering team to Rachel.  Now the others were joining in, even Muriel, and the conversation turned into something of a blur for Castiel.  She thought maybe it was the same for Rachel, who seemed to be looking from one person to another as she recognized them in the jumble of words and half-formed thoughts.  She thought it was probably more overwhelming for some of the others: Muriel, still, and Hanathel, who was there but never said anything.

It didn’t seem to bother Dean in the slightest.  She actually seemed to revel in the chaos, flitting from one idea to the next without leaving any doubt about who she was speaking to at any given time.  Castiel listened as best she could, prioritizing the hangar when she had to because who knew what would happen with all of them so distracted.

Dean let her attention wander, only calling Castiel back when Anna’s sudden presence made everyone stop talking.  Or start.  Or withdraw, some of them, and Castiel didn’t blame them.  Anna’s thoughts were disciplined and sharp compared to theirs, and her dominance was unmistakable.

 _Castiel,_ Anna said, and Castiel got the vaguest sense that she was in her quarters.  They could all hear her, but Castiel wondered how many of them could tell that she’d been asleep.  Dean must have woken her up.  For this?

 _What are you doing?_ Anna asked.  She didn’t sound angry.

 _Socializing,_ Castiel said.  It was the only answer she had, given the poorly-defined parameters of the question, and she thought it amused Anna.  Which hadn’t been her intent, but it was certainly better than the alternative.

 _Well done,_ Anna thought.  Then, _Dean, stop waking me up for your parties.  You’re all fine; don’t break anything.  See you in the morning._

Her awareness slid away.  For a moment Castiel envied her: even when she left, she was with Dean.  She was the only person on the ship who could have this whenever they wanted to.  Castiel caught herself before she could wish differently – before she could wish explicitly – because everyone could hear her if they knew what to listen for.

 _They don’t have to,_ Dean’s voice said unexpectedly.  _You want a private channel?  I can do that._

She didn’t even question it.  _I’m so tired,_ she thought.  _I just want today to be over._

 _And I just want you,_ Dean said, in a cheerful tone that sounded just like what she was using with the engineers.  _Come to bed.  Anna’s going back to sleep; she won’t bother you._

 _I can’t,_ Castiel thought.  Because of work, mostly: she had logs to update and people to check on.  Because of Anna, partly.  Anna would wake up when she came in.  Anna hadn’t invited her, anyway, so it probably didn’t matter.

 _Hey,_ Dean said.  The other voices were muted to whispers now, and Castiel assumed that was the ship’s doing.  Was Dean even still talking to them?  _Yesterday’s invitation stands.  Stay with us.  All your stuff’s here anyway._

Dean talked like she was in Anna’s room.  Like all Castiel had to do was go there, and they’d be together.  Which was true, she supposed.  In the way that she was missing.  In the way she’d gotten too used to, too quickly, without worrying about what it meant or what could happen.

 _Remember when you dreamed about flying?_ Dean asked.  _And the whole thing this morning, with…_ The sentence trailed off in a way that she couldn’t seem to finish.  The ending was there, fully formed but without words, and it took Castiel several heartbeats to realize she was smiling.

 _Right,_ Dean said, obviously getting it.  _I can make those things overlap.  I’m pretty sure.  You’re weirdly good at it, and I’m very motivated.  I promise I can keep track of time if we have more than one stupid hour._

Castiel understood what that meant and she wanted to pretend that she didn’t, because if she understood she would have to respond.  She would have to question, and be responsible, and put it off because she had other things to do.  Things that were more important than sleeping, let alone sleeping with a ship that shouldn’t be able to hug her like that.

 _Sometimes I think you don’t know how awesome I am,_ Dean informed her.  _I am keeping track of everyone on the station, you know.  I can log everything you have on your pager, and I can tell you right now there’s nothing else waiting in security that Jeremiel can’t handle._

 _What about your party?_ Castiel asked.  She wasn’t really kidding.  _They’re only half paying attention at best._

Dean knew “paying attention” meant “paying attention to their surroundings,” the same way Castiel knew that “everyone” meant “everyone we care about.”  The crew, in other words, and the crew’s security.  Both important and inevitable and in question, even here.

 _Like you’re such a big help to them like this,_ Dean answered, and that wasn’t what she’d expected at all.  _You should go eat something.  Let Rachel watch them, if you want more than just Jeremiel.  She didn’t spend her day following scientists all over the station._

 _I don’t want to eat anything,_ she thought.  It wasn’t a rational response, and even as she thought it she knew Dean was right.  She wasn’t doing much more than not falling asleep out here.  Which shouldn’t have been possible – sleep, not the avoidance of it – but Dean’s way of talking had relaxed her that much in a very short amount of time.

 _You don’t have to,_ Dean said.  _Obviously.  But you’ll feel better in the morning if you get some water and some sugar into you before you crash._

 _Because of you?_ Castiel asked.  _Because of what you do?_

 _Because you’re alive,_ Dean said.  She sounded fond and exasperated and Castiel could hear her talking to the others at the same time if she really tried.  _I need fuel.  You need fuel.  We both need rest, and I don’t know about you, but I think it’d be cool if we did it together._

 _You need rest?_ Castiel thought.

 _Well, not all the time._   The “not right now” was clear despite her best efforts to cover it up.  _But I like you, and I can dream with you and keep an eye on everything at the same time.  So I think you should stop asking questions and come inside before you fall asleep out there._

She didn’t want to take her hand away.  She wanted to keep it on Dean’s skin, she wanted to keep hearing that voice in her head.  But she couldn’t deny that the illusion of “going to where Dean was” felt temptingly real.  To the point of making her guilty, actually, for trying to anthropomorphize a starship.

 _Yeah, you get harder to reason with the more tired you get._   Dean’s tone had definitely tipped toward fond from exasperated, and Castiel didn’t understand why.  _Noticed that.  A lot.  Look, it’s like if you’re leaning up against Rachel’s arm, right?  And she’s trying to talk to someone over your head and you’re trying to sleep.  So she tells you to move around the other side.  Lean up against her other arm, where you’d be more comfortable.  That’s all I’m saying._

The day Dean was more human than she was… 

 _That day’s way past,_ Dean said, and her words sparkled even when Castiel couldn’t see that laugh in her skin.  _I’m gonna leave you alone now, in the hope that not talking to you will make you come inside._

 _You’re not talking to me at all?_ Castiel couldn’t help asking.

 _Oh, like I could ever do that,_ Dean retorted.

That was all she said, though, and Castiel did know how to take advice.  All evidence to the contrary.  So she put her other hand over her head, giving her aching arm some relief at the swap, and slid her fingers across the underside of the wing until she stood next to Rachel.

“Rachel,” she murmured, in case Rachel hadn’t noticed her approach.

But Rachel was more alert than she was, and she dropped her hand immediately and apparently without concern.  Losing Dean’s voice didn’t even make her blink.  “Castiel,” she said.

“It’s Jeremiel’s shift,” Castiel said.  “I’m going inside.”

Rachel smiled, relaxing a little and glancing up at the wing again.  “Understood,” she said.  “I guess we’ll be out here until this gets old, which should be… probably never.”

Castiel knew that feeling all too well.  “Yes,” she agreed, and it was awkward and not because she knew Rachel understood.  “Dean says she’s keeping an eye on the crew and the hangar.”

Rachel peered at her.  “Have you had dinner?” she asked abruptly.  “You look kind of tired.”

Castiel felt the corner of her mouth quirk.  “I’m on my way there now,” she said.

“Don’t go back to work afterwards,” Rachel said.  “We can handle it.  There’s nothing so important it has to be done tonight, but we’ll do it anyway, because it’s our job too.”

“I know,” Castiel told her.  “But technically, it’s Jeremiel’s job right now.  You’ve been up as long as I have.”

“That’s why I’m coming inside to have dinner with you,” Rachel agreed smoothly.  Like she’d been planning that all along, and Castiel wondered why she hadn’t.  Or more precisely, she wondered why Rachel had chosen now to change her mind.  “Do you mind some company?”

It was an odd courtesy from Rachel, who usually felt she knew whether Castiel needed company or not better than Castiel did.  Castiel put up with it because Rachel most often decided she didn’t, and she was most often right.  But today something was different, and Castiel had missed whatever signaled the change.

“No,” she said, when she realized Rachel was still waiting for an answer.  “I don’t mind.”

“Good,” Rachel said.  She put a hand on Castiel’s lowered shoulder to nudge her in the right direction.  “Come on.  I’m sure Dean can keep up no matter where we are.”

“Does she need to?” Castiel asked, frowning.

“Do you need her to?” Rachel countered.  “You’re the one who’s not letting go.”

 _See you soon,_ she thought, and she knew Dean heard her through the noise because there was a warm brush of happiness and approval and anticipation.  Dean had been listening.  Dean was always listening.  And right now, she was looking forward to having Castiel to herself somewhere no one would see her or interrupt either them.

Well, someone would interrupt Dean.  Someone always did.  But Dean kept it from reaching her, and Castiel didn’t know how, but she was grateful.  So she let her hand fall reluctantly, and she turned to follow Rachel inside.

Dinner wasn’t particularly interesting.  She hadn’t expected it to be, so maybe her perception had affected the outcome, but mostly she spent the time not talking to Dean, and that was boring.  Her pager did chime several times, but Rachel threatened to take it away from her so Castiel stopped responding to everything Dean said.  She did pat the table a few times, which didn’t make any sense but she was tired and she didn’t care.

She also didn’t talk much to one of Rachel’s friends, who sat down with them about halfway through the meal and asked questions about their time at the academy.  Castiel wasn’t sure what was so great about the academy: for her it had mostly been two years of wishing she was somewhere else, and most of her classmates seemed to feel the same.  If they were looking ahead while she was looking back, she didn’t see the practical difference.

Castiel excused herself from dinner before Rachel was done.  Rachel gave her an odd look, but she and her friend both said good night and Rachel said she’d see her in the morning.  Then Rachel was the one getting the odd look, and it only occurred to Castiel later that it was possible that not everyone on the ship knew she was sleeping with Anna and Dean.

She wasn’t sure even Anna knew that, right now.  But Dean had said the invitation was open, from both of them, and Castiel wasn’t going to worry about it until she had to.  Or until she was awake enough that it seemed like a plausible use of energy.  At the moment, only one thing seemed worth it, and everything that led up to it – walking there, changing her clothes, preparing to sleep – were all secondary things in service to her goal.

Her pager chimed, and she looked at it automatically.

 _You sound tired,_ Dean said.  _Keep walking._

“I sound tired?” she repeated aloud.  She didn’t feel like typing right now.

 _Your footsteps,_ her pager told her.  _The party outside is breaking up, if you’re curious._

Not really.  Maybe a little.  She wasn’t sure.  “Should I be curious?” Castiel asked.

 _Sure,_ Dean wrote back.  _When you have someone as all-knowing as me to tell you whatever you can think of, you should be very curious._

She thought the fact that Dean didn’t actually volunteer anything meant that the ship was sympathetic to her decreased attention span.  “Okay,” she said aloud.  She was almost outside Anna’s quarters, and if it was too personal she was sure Dean would tell her.  “I’m curious.  About why you joined the ships-in-service program.”

 _I like humans,_ Dean replied.  There was no hesitation, no warning, not even a request that she wait until she was on the other side of Anna’s door before she asked again.  _We don’t see many of you out our way, so.  We came to you._

“We?” Castiel asked, pausing before she entered Anna’s space again.

 _Come in,_ Dean said.

She went inside.  The walls were dim but very blue, deep like the shadows of indigo glass in a cloudy window.  She smiled, looking at the hammocks even though she couldn’t see well enough in the low light to make anything out yet.  She knew where they were, and when she looked, the wall behind Anna’s brightened just enough that she could make out the rise of blankets and arms and hair that would be red if the light were true.

Anna continued to leave the space above Dean’s floor for her.  Castiel didn’t know what that meant, if it wasn’t Anna offering her tacit approval.  To Castiel’s relationship with Dean, to Dean’s relationship with her, whatever it was.  To their disruptive bonding process that threw off work schedules and changed the way the crew interacted with the ship.

Or maybe Anna was just too tired to move everything before she went to sleep.  Maybe she’d be having a conversation with both of them in the morning, and Castiel wouldn’t like what she heard.  What would she do if Anna told her she couldn’t see Dean anymore?

Her pager didn’t chime again, but the wall behind the other hammock was glowing brighter now.  The one next to Anna had faded, but Castiel’s wall was changing color.  Lightening in hue, if not in actual luminosity.  Which meant Dean was getting curious, and impatient, and wanted Castiel to come talk to her instead of wasting time just standing there.

That Dean wanted her was the one thing she didn’t question, so Castiel pulled off her shoes and socks and padded over to the hammock that was waiting for her.  As soon as her foot touched the colored part of the floor, the wall started to shift back toward blue.  _You okay?_ she felt Dean ask, more with intent than with words.

She didn’t lie when she said, _Just tired._   She would be less worried, less paranoid, less a lot of things in the morning.  _Can you really magic my dreams?_

Dean’s enjoyment of the phrase was unmistakable.  It seemed to have come across as some kind of handwaving, which Castiel might have meant, she wasn’t sure.  She didn’t always use words well when she was speaking, and it was much harder to pick and choose while she was thinking.  Despite Dean, despite everything about Dean, she still wasn’t used to someone reading her mind.

 _Or whatever,_ Dean added.  As far as Castiel could tell, she was responding to both the magic and the mind reading.  Neither of which she claimed to be able to do, and both of which Castiel felt described her perfectly well.  _Yeah.  I think so.  Lie down and we’ll find out._

 _I’m not ready for bed,_ she thought, but it was a feeble protest.  She wanted to be ready for bed.

 _You seem ready for bed,_ Dean said.  _What else do you need, a lullaby?  Because I can sing._

She smiled, unbidden.  _I need pajamas and things.  And a lullaby, I’ve just decided.  Work on that.  I’ll be right back._

She stepped off of the floor and saw Dean’s flash of exasperation, fond and unrehearsed, through the colors in the wall.  Like human expressions, Dean had said.  It seemed an apt comparison.  She changed as quickly as she could, used Anna’s refresher while Dean made the deeper colors flow a little bit like waves.  She didn’t realize they were following her movements until she came back.

It seemed strange to ask, but she couldn’t keep it to herself when she stepped onto Dean’s skin again.  _Were you watching me get undressed?_

 _Maybe,_ Dean replied immediately.  It was a non-evasive answer that meant yes, no matter the word she’d chosen.  _Why, you want to see me do it?_

 _That’s not even possible,_ Castiel told her.

She should have expected the smug feeling she got from Dean.  The ship didn’t offer anything she couldn’t deliver; when would Castiel learn that?  When would she accept it, was maybe a better question.  Dean seemed intent on proving it to her, so all that was left was for her to agree.

 _Close your eyes,_ Dean said.

Castiel did it without stopping to wonder, and she was so glad to see Dean standing in front of her again that she almost forgot about it.  “Hello, Dean,” she said with a smile.  She hadn’t known she would ever be so glad to see another person again.

“Hey,” Dean said.  She was positively beaming, and that was where the smug feeling came from but Castiel didn’t think any further than that.  She just stared while Dean held out her hands, mimicking a human gesture of surprise.  “I meant lie down, then close your eyes.”

“You didn’t say that,” Castiel said, content to watch her as long as she was able.  Her perception was slower now; she remembered and she didn’t care.  She just wanted to look at Dean.

“I’m saying it now,” Dean told her.  “Actually, you know what?  Probably you should open your eyes first.  Just in case.”

“First, before I lie down?”  She was only stalling because she wanted Dean to hug her and she didn’t know how to ask.  She hadn’t thought she wanted a human relationship.  She still didn’t want a human relationship, but she didn’t dislike the idea of Dean being human.

And that made her feel guilty all over again.

Then Dean was hugging her and she didn’t care.  “Hey,” Dean whispered, and it felt like someone’s breath tickling her ear.  It felt like Dean was holding her, and talking to her, and she was so afraid that it was wrong to want that.  “You’re fine, we’re fine, it’s all gonna be okay.”

She put her head down, trying not to look at anything else as she wrapped her arms around someone who felt as solid as anyone she’d ever touched.  “I thought you were the honest one,” she murmured.

Dean’s hand was rubbing her back, the back of her shoulders, the space around her spine, and it didn’t stop when she asked, “Who told you that?”

“Everyone,” Castiel said with a sigh.  “It comes from the ship, Anna said.  Everyone says what they mean.”  Dean knew that, she had to have heard, to remember hearing that.  Why did she even ask?

“I guess that’s flattering,” Dean said.  “I think they do it because we don’t understand each other, though.  The whole subtlety thing gets kind of lost in the interspecies gap.  Chasm.  Whatever.”

She didn’t know where that gap was, let alone how to cross it.  She would rather just stand here and not think about it.  She could, of course, but in order to not think about it she had to think about something else.  And that had always been her problem.

“That wasn’t supposed to be depressing,” Dean added after a moment.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said, echoing Dean without thinking about it.

“You’re thinking about boring things now,” Dean said.  “I’m pretty sure you only do that when you don’t want to think about something important.”

Castiel lifted her head, pulling back enough to stare at her.  At least a little; she was too close for it to be very effective.  “How do you do that?” she asked.  “I can’t tell what you’re thinking at all.”

“Well, you kind of can,” Dean said.  “Because you can hear me.  And see me.”

She hadn’t been this close to Dean’s face for more than a few seconds, and it was astonishing to be able to look and just keep looking.  Dean looked human.  She looked… Castiel thought she looked by turns familiar and foreign, but her appearance didn’t actually change.

“This isn’t real,” Castiel said aloud.  Just to test the idea out.

Dean looked baffled by this statement, and she was right.  Castiel could tell that she genuinely didn’t understand that, where it came from or even what it meant.  She wouldn’t have known that if it was just words between them.  Right?

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.  She didn’t deny it, because it was so obvious to her that it wasn’t true.  She assumed Castiel meant something else, and so she was waiting for the explanation.

“You’re right,” Castiel blurted out.  “I do know what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah,” Dean said.  She was frowning now.  “What do you mean, this isn’t real?”

“It is real,” Castiel said.  “Isn’t it.  It’s not all in my mind.”

“Everything is in your mind,” Dean said.  “Everything you see and hear and know, you do all that stuff with your mind.  Your mind operates your body, same as mine does.”

Dean must know what it meant for something to be all in someone’s head.  She knew every colloquialism Castiel used and hundreds more she’d never heard of.  Castiel wasn’t sure if she was deliberately ignoring this one, or if she was just trying to answer it more seriously than usual.

“What we know is affected by the way we perceive it,” Castiel said.  Waiting for Dean to tip one way or the other, to someone express something that would tell her what to do next.  “Some of the things I know are different than the things you know.  Because of my body.”

Dean was still frowning, but her loose grip on Castiel’s waist hadn’t let go.  “Remember how I said subtlety kind of gets lost?” she said.  “This one’s lost on me.  Are you upset about something?”

“I feel…”  Bad didn’t quite cover it.  She was tired of guilt and worry.  “Like I shouldn’t want you to be like me.”

Dean shrugged, ship shirt sliding against Castiel’s pajamas, and only now did she notice the contrast.  “I want you to be like me,” she said bluntly.  “But I don’t want you to change.  I think you are like me in the ways that matter, so the rest of it will probably work out.”

It was simultaneously the vaguest and most reassuring description of their relationship she’d heard yet, and Castiel didn’t mean to laugh but she was doing it anyway and Dean looked delighted.  “Are you laughing?” she demanded.  “Keep doing that, that’s great.  That’s the brightest thing I’ve ever seen.”

It was bright.  She knew immediately what Dean was seeing and somehow it helped, made things better even when she couldn’t explain what was happening.  “I don’t want you to be like me,” Castiel said suddenly.  “I want you to be just like you are.”

“Hey,” Dean said with a grin.  “You’re in luck!  Because I am.  So how about you open your eyes, get your stuff on the floor to sleep, and we’ll talk some more.”

“Okay,” she agreed.  Except she didn’t want to step back, and Dean hadn’t let go of her, so they stood there for some time just looking at each other.  It felt more normal than anything she’d done since leaving the ship that morning.

Finally, Dean pushed her away.  “Wake up,” she teased, and when Castiel looked again Dean’s human form was gone and the walls sparkled with a light blue that looked fond and pleased and a little impatient all at the same time.

Anna was sitting up in her hammock.

For Dean not to have warned her that Anna was awake, Castiel could only assume she’d missed it.  Which meant Dean had been distracted.  It was more improbable when she thought about the number of tasks and conversations Dean juggled from minute to minute, even second to second.  How could she not have noticed something happening so close?

“You awake?” Anna said softly.

Castiel wanted to say no, but the fact that she was standing up probably gave the lie to that attempt.  “Yes,” she said.

“Dean doing her thing?” Anna asked, but the question was just as quiet.  Almost deferential.

“Probably,” Castiel admitted.  “If her thing is…”  The holographic thing, Dean had called it.  “The thing where she looks human, then yes.”

“It’s not just her,” Anna offered.  “It’s you too.  You look like an angel to her.”

“She mentioned that,” Castiel said, uncomfortable without knowing what the point of the conversation was.  Were they to be reprimanded again?  If they were, she’d rather not say more about the experience than she already had.  On the other hand, Anna had clearly caught them at it again.  She wasn’t sure how much that might count against them.

“Cas,” Anna said, and the imitation of Dean was probably meant to be friendly.  “I’m not angry about this.”

Castiel didn’t move.

“Dean says you think I’m angry,” Anna added, and that was enough to relax her a little.  Maybe Dean had known Anna was awake.  Maybe Dean had been talking to Anna at the same time she was talking to Castiel.  She might have set this whole thing up to make Castiel stop worrying about it.

 _I didn’t,_ Dean’s voice said, so clearly that for a moment she forgot Anna couldn’t hear it.  Anna wasn’t touching the skin of the ship, and if her pager had received a message just then it was set to silent.

“I don’t know what to think,” Castiel said.  “I’ve come in, disrupted your routine and taken over your space, and on top of that I can’t even do the job you offered me.  A very sought-after job, I have to add, for which you could have had anyone you wanted.”

“I wanted you,” Anna said.  “So did Dean.  We both still want you, although I can see Dean’s already convinced you of her love, so.  I’m the one who’s not talking enough.”  She said it lightly, in a tone of voice that Castiel associated with people who were trying to pretend they didn’t mean what they said.

“I accept your word,” Castiel said carefully.  She would accept Anna’s word, if she knew what the word was.  As long as it didn’t mean anything that separated her from Dean.

“The word is stay,” Anna told her.  “As long as you want.  Until the end; that’s why we’re all here.”

She would.  Of course she would, Anna had to know that.  Dean knew it.  Everyone on the ship must know it by now.  Where else would she go if not anywhere with them?

“I wasn't upset that you were late,” Anna said.  “This morning.  I was upset that you were endangering yourself again, and I’m starting to think maybe that’s normal for you.  But it’s not for me.  It didn’t really surprise me, and that was as hard as anything.”

“I was just talking to Dean,” Castiel said.  “She was keeping an eye on me.”

“You’re always just talking to Dean,” Anna reminded her.  “Were you this reckless at the academy?  I thought Dean would have mentioned it if you were, but maybe she thinks it’s normal too.”

 _A and I have different definitions of reckless,_ Dean thought, and Castiel was careful not to smile.

Anna saw it anyway.  Castiel had no idea how, given the low light, but Anna just shook her head.  “Should I ask what she said?”

“You have different definitions of reckless,” Castiel said, before Dean could tell her not to.  But Dean didn’t protest, and Castiel wondered if maybe she’d meant for Anna to hear all along.

“That’s true,” Anna agreed.  She didn’t seem bothered by it.

“I’m sorry to have caused so much…”  Castiel hesitated over the word, since “trouble” wouldn’t be appreciated and nothing else seemed casual enough.  “Commotion,” she said at last.

“I’m not,” Anna said.  “Stuff happens, Cas; things change.  It was good once.  It’ll be good again.”

“It?” Castiel repeated.

“Life,” Anna said.  “Whatever.  Nothing stays good forever, but nothing stays bad forever either.  All we get to choose is how we treat the people around us.”

Castiel considered this.  It must hold some sort of meaning for Anna, but she didn’t see its relevance.  “Is that enough?” she asked at last.  “To choose how we treat people?”

Anna huffed out a quiet laugh, her hammock shifting slightly with the movement.  “Most days it seems like more than we can handle.”

“Yes,” Castiel said after a moment.  “I suppose it does.”

“You going to bed?” Anna asked, when neither of them said anything else.  “You’re making me sleepy just looking at you.”

“Yes,” Castiel repeated.  “I believe Dean has something to show me.”

This time Anna did seem surprised.  “Something that keeps you from going to bed?”  Implicit in the question was a tone that said, _that’s not like her._

“No,” Castiel said.

There was silence, or as close to it as the shell ever got, before Anna said, “Dean wants to show you something in bed?”

She sounded just amused enough to put Castiel at ease, although she still wasn’t sure how she should have phrased it to avoid confusion.  “I believe that is the case,” she agreed.  It was true, Anna wasn’t upset, and she was going to bed.  That was really all she asked right now.

That and Dean, of course.

Castiel pulled her blankets onto the floor, dumping the pillow out of the hammock without really seeing where it went.  The light was very low, and their eyes had adapted but there was still only so much they could do.  If the light itself wasn’t colored, she wouldn’t see any color at all.  Anything that fell away from Dean’s skin was instantly lost in shadow.

She sat down, glancing back at Anna’s hammock for a moment.  The captain of the ship was still watching her, though she moved when Castiel looked up: maybe about to lie down again.  “Cas,” she said quietly.

Castiel put a hand on the floor without thinking, Dean’s skin warm against her own even though they were already touching.  She appreciated the warm pulse of reassurance she felt in her mind.  Neither of them said anything.

“Treat her right,” Anna said.

Castiel blinked.  It sounded almost formulaic, and she was almost sure the correct answer should be, _I will._   But all she had was the truth.  “I’m not sure I know how.”

Anna’s smile was there in her voice.  “If you try, I think you’ll be just fine.”  Then she added, “That goes for you too, Dean.  We need Cas.”

Both their pagers chimed at the same moment.  Before either of them could be reached, the computer’s voice said, “You think I don’t know that?”

Castiel saw Anna’s head tilt slightly in the dimness.  “Did you actually page us,” she said, “or was that just like… clearing your throat?”

“I did page you,” the synthesized voice said.  “But it was just to get your attention.  You’re talking a lot quieter than usual; didn’t want to startle you.”

It was funny to hear Dean’s mostly casual commentary cloaked in the artificial tones of the shell computer.  “What does the page say?” Castiel asked, just to make her keep talking.

If the computer voice could sound amused, she was sure it would sound that way now.  Even the walls glimmered with Dean’s smile.  “Oh, you are lazy, aren’t you.  It says ‘hey.’”

“Subtle,” Anna remarked.

“You’re welcome,” Dean told her.

Castiel found her pillow almost by accident, and she pulled it closer to her.  It seemed just as easy to curl into it and pull the blanket over her shoulder, so turned her hand over and kept the back of it pressed to the floor as she lay down.  It was uncomfortable, even under the pillow.

 _Finally,_ Dean’s voice said in her head.  Then, aloud and through the computer, she said, “’Night, A.”

“Good night, Dean,” Anna replied.  She sounded fond, even as she added, “Good night, Cas.”

It was so unexpected that it took Castiel a moment to remember she should return the wish.  “Good night,” she said quietly.  She lifted the hand under her pillow long enough to scrunch the blanket up against her skin.  It blocked the connection with Dean, but she laid her other hand on the warm skin palm down.

“I’d say ‘close your eyes,’” Dean said, “but you’re way ahead of me.”

It was Dean’s voice, not the computer, and when Castiel craned her neck she could see the blonde-haired woman sitting down next to her.  Still in ship’s clothes, but not cast in shadow.  She had her back to the wall of the ship, but her face was perfectly visible.

“You glow,” Castiel blurted out.

“So do you,” Dean said easily.  “Let me know if this gets too weird for you, okay?  I’ve never actually done this with a human before.”

“Done what?”  Castiel watched Dean lie down next to her, putting her hands behind her back as she stared up at the ceiling of Anna’s quarters.  Castiel couldn’t help looking too, rolling over on her back when she realized the shell was gone.  They were staring out into unshielded space.

Except that they couldn’t be, because she was still breathing as normally as she had been when she was lying on the floor.  She might still be on the floor, but her blankets were gone and Dean was suddenly closer.  Their arms brushed, and she fumbled to touch Dean, to feel warmth where her eyes told her there should be none.

“This,” Dean said, and when Castiel turned her head she found Dean staring back at her.  She could feel the stars all around them, streaming color like waves.  She could feel space moving around them, rippling past like maybe they were lying still in its midst while it flowed over and under and everywhere in between.

“Is this what it feels like to fly?”  Castiel didn’t mean to be quiet, but it came out as a whisper anyway.

“Nah,” Dean said, smiling at her.  “S’what it feels like to be with you.”

“What do you see?” she asked, more curious than ever.

“I see you,” Dean said simply.  “Want to meet my sister?”

The floor was gone and she didn’t even miss it.  She wasn’t lying on anything, she was just… drifting.  Floating, here with Dean.  And somehow it felt normal.  She put out a hand to touch the light around them, and it parted around her fingers the way the stars had opened up for Dean.

“Yes,” Castiel said.  What else could she say?  Dean bragged about her sister all the time, doted on her with every mention of family, and Castiel still didn’t know how they kept up.  Dean had spoken of Sam as though she saw and talked to her all the time while Castiel was at the academy, but she had never mentioned specific trips or visits and Castiel had never caught her while she was on one.

Dean’s sister was part of the ships in service program too, and Castiel had assumed they ran into each other with unplanned frequency.  Maybe that was all Dean meant now: the next time she saw Sam, she might introduce her to Castiel.  Or maybe she would seek Sam out, using the change in crew as any excuse.

“Come on,” Dean said, and suddenly her arms were around Castiel and everything was a blur of light and color and a funny swirling sound that was what wind might sound like if it were made of something tonal.  It was dizzying, and Castiel closed her eyes until she remembered that she might wake up and she opened them quickly.

Nothing had changed, except that the sound intensified and everything that wasn’t Dean felt cold.  Dean had never done this before.  She had no idea which was was up, and she wasn’t sure her brain could handle what was happening if it made her body feel like this.  It wasn’t even her body, so if she felt poorly it must be her mind, right?

“Dean,” she said, afraid without being able to explain why.

Everything stopped.  Or they did.  It felt like the universe kept moving around them and they had dropped out with a suddenness that made everything rock.  There was nothing underneath her, but she thought she felt something swoop past overhead.  She ducked into Dean instinctively, and a hand pressed against the back of her head.  Pulling her closer.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured in her ear.  Dean’s voice sounded like the wind.  Like it was moving even while they stood still.  “You okay?  We can go back.”

“No.”  Castiel didn’t know what back was, but it wasn’t here with Dean.  She liked the “with Dean” part.  “Just tell me what’s happening.”

“We’re going to see Sam,” Dean said.  “If you can do it.  I mean, I don’t see why you couldn’t.  You feel just like me when we’re talking like this, and I can see Sam whenever I want.”

It was as close as she’d ever heard Dean come to nervous babble, and Castiel smiled into her shoulder.  Keeping her head down blocked most of her vision without her having to close her eyes.  It made the vertigo less, and she couldn’t feel anything flying past.

“That explains a lot about some of your academy stories,” Castiel murmured.  It was vague, but she thought Dean understood what she meant.  The ship had told wild stories of her exploits with her sister while Castiel was studying, and they had sometimes sounded more recent than was possible.  Especially given how carefully Castiel had followed Dean’s assignments.

“Yeah,” Dean said, and this time she sounded as serious as she did concerned.  “There’s some stuff we don’t advertise to humans, you know.  Just as a general rule.  We’ve had some problems.”

Hijacking, Castiel thought.

“Yeah,” Dean repeated.  “Anyway.  Try this, okay?  If it’s weird, just say so.”

Castiel waited, bracing herself for the onslaught of bright and loud and falling into a gravity that was too far away to stop.  It didn’t come.  She waited again, trying to breathe, and that was one thing she did manage.  If not comprehension, she thought, then breathing.  At least.

Dean smoothed a hand against her back, and Castiel tipped her head just a little to one side.  There was light and movement but it was thicker, more tangible.  There were things she could touch.  She lifted her head, staring at the kaleidoscopic furniture that seemed to coalesce out of color and current.

“This is home,” Dean said.  “Just so you know.”

“Home,” Castiel said.  She tried to stare, but even the air moved.  The furniture, at least, seemed to stay in place – but it couldn’t be actual furniture.  It couldn’t be furniture the way she thought of it, because objectively, there shouldn’t be anything solid inside a gas giant.

“Probably better not to pass that around, either,” Dean said with a smile.  “This is just a memory, but it’s cool, right?  There’s dragons and stuff.  Dragons are cool.

“Here, relax,” Dean added, pushing her back without letting her go, and she felt something underneath her as she moved.  Something like a chair that spread out as she moved: she could feel solidity that supported her descent, like arms that spread into a couch.  It didn’t look like anything, there was nothing there, but she could feel it.

“It’s like the floor,” Dean whispered.  “Or the hammock.  Do you like hammocks?”

She did like hammocks, but she liked touching Dean more and that made her think very fondly of the floor.  “I like being with you,” she said, and Dean probably heard what she meant if she was paying any attention at all.

“Great,” Dean said.  “When I’m with you, we can do this.”

Castiel felt herself falling farther into the embrace of something that didn’t exist – but then it did, and she and Dean were lying in a hammock in the shell.  Together.  The shell was gone, the hammock was still there, Dean gave it a push.  They were pressed up against each other.  Castiel wasn’t complaining.

“What do you see?” she asked again.  Ships didn’t cuddle in hammocks.

“Mostly home,” Dean said.  “Maybe a little what you see.  Just enough?”

She didn’t know how that was possible, but she didn’t know how any of this was possible.  As far as she could tell, if was more than most humans ever suspected about ships in service, let alone saw for themselves.  She let it go.  Rolling on top of Dean didn’t seem the invasion it might have, considering their mental proximity.

Judging by Dean’s expression, it wasn’t an invasion at all.  Or if it was, it was a particularly welcome one.  Which was funny, given Dean’s historical reluctance to talk to people.  Touching should be in a whole different category.

Maybe it was, Castiel realized, lifting a hand to Dean’s face.  Maybe this was just… patting the wall when she walked, or going barefoot in Anna’s quarters.  She ran her fingers over Dean’s cheek, touched her nose, drifted down to her lips.  When Dean kissed her fingers, she didn’t know whether to be startled or utterly unsurprised.

“It’s not like anything else,” Dean said.  Her voice sounded normal, uncompromised, a little bit amused.  The way it always did, but she was smiling up at Castiel.  She was lying underneath Castiel in a hammock made of light and swirling gas vapor, kissing her skin.  Smiling.

“I want to be able to read your mind,” Castiel complained, leaning down to feel Dean’s breath on her skin.  She even felt warm.  She might as well be human, if not for the exotic and very dream-like nature of their surroundings.  It was like a dream of being underwater, where Castiel could walk and talk and breathe and it didn’t seem strange until she woke up.

This seemed strange now, so maybe it was different.  A lucid dream.

“Not a dream,” Dean said, stretching so that her mouth was just that much closer.  “And you can read my mind.  Where do you think we are?”

Castiel kissed her before she could wonder why she was doing it.  More.  She already wondered, she didn’t want to, she was trying to believe it didn’t matter.  “I think we’re home,” she murmured.

Dean made a quiet sound that wasn’t quite human, and it made Castiel pause, fascinated.  For just a moment, the hammock was gone.  The body underneath her spread wings that arched up into hers and she hadn’t known they could _move._   Dean was laughing at her, bright blue and imperative gold, sparkling all the way to the tips while dragons chased them through the atmosphere.

Then Dean’s arms were around her again, solid and warm and almost as exciting as flight.  She hadn’t felt it happen but the hammock was buoying her up while Dean pushed her back, gentle and inexorable and everywhere.  “Dragons,” Castiel whispered, watching those eyes light up green with curiosity.

But all Dean said was, “So you’re getting some of mine, too,” and then she was kissing Castiel like it was just another way to talk.  There was a flash of wings and childhood, and Castiel knew.  Dean had chased those dragons for days with Sam at her side.  It was part of growing up.

“Is this where we see Sam?” Castiel murmured, tipping her head back as Dean’s mouth pressed gentle kisses to her skin, down her neck, over her collarbone.  Still in her pajamas, she thought absently.  What did physical intimacy mean here, anyway?

“It’s like this.”  Dean didn’t lift her head, and Castiel wanted another glimpse of her wings.  She tugged at Dean’s shirt, barely grasping that wings would be behind her if she were human.  Human with wings.  And that Dean’s vision seemed to manifest when Castiel distracted her.

“I thought maybe it wouldn’t seem so weird if you could get the idea here,” Dean mumbled, pressing her chin to the top of Castiel’s shoulder before she lifted her head and tried to make eye contact.  “Want to try it now?”

She would have said yes to pretty much anything Dean asked in that moment, and Dean didn’t wait for more of an answer than that.  Everything spun again, singing and lit up and out of control.  Except for Dean.  Dean stayed constant and this time she let herself close her eyes while they held onto each other.

She didn’t wake up.  Which should be only a little less frightening than the thought that she might, given that she now had no idea how to go back.  The place she’d come from was effectively lost to her if Dean didn’t choose to take her back… but she couldn’t bring herself to care.  She’d rather be nowhere with Dean than anywhere by herself.

 _Me too,_ she heard Dean think.  _Don’t say it around Sam, though.  She already thinks we’re co-dependent enough._

The word co-dependent probably should have meant something to her, but instead her attention was caught by the idea of saying something to Sam.  _How do I talk to her?_ she wondered.  _Is she like you?  Is she like me, here?_

Dean smiled, an expression she could feel without looking and knew without asking.  “Ask her yourself,” Dean’s voice said, and Castiel opened her eyes.

They were standing on a grassy hill, the same one she’d lain on with Dean to stare up at the stars.  It was a hill on Earth that she knew particularly well.  It didn’t usually have kittens on it, though it did now, and the woman looking down at her and Dean was also new.  The women was so human-looking that it took Castiel a moment to realize this must be Sam.

“Hey,” Dean said, reaching out to the woman to catch her arm and pull her into a hug.  “How you been, Sammy.”

“Dean!”  The other woman pulled her hand free immediately to wrap both arms around her.  “What have you been doing; we missed you!”

“Just collecting a friend,” Dean said, pushing at her and pretending to complain.  “Lemme go, hey, stop.  You’re embarrassing me.”

“That’s my job,” the woman said.  She was stepping back, grinning at Castiel, but Dean pushed her again for good measure.

“That’s _my_ job,” Dean told her.  “I’m older.  The younger ones are supposed to be more polite.”

“No, totally untrue.”  She was still talking to Dean, but she was holding out her hand to Castiel.  “Hi,” she added.  “I’m Sam.”

Castiel offered her own hand and her name, somewhat awkwardly as her brain reminded her that this wasn’t what Sam would be seeing at all.  What was she doing in ship sight?  Was it as uncomfortable as she felt?  Why was Dean just smiling at her?

Dean might have heard her, or she might have just remembered to do something other than stare, because she said, “Yeah, hey, this is Cas.  Cas, this is my Sammy, but you’re probably better off calling her Sam.”

Sam raised her eyebrows at Dean for that, and Castiel didn’t realize why at first.  She was too distracted by the feeling of Sam’s grip, warm and firm but more distant than Dean felt, and the fact that she was standing on a hill at home talking to starships given human form.  She didn’t know anything that prepared her for this.

“Hi,” Sam said again.  “You like Cas, or Castiel?  I know how Dean messes with people’s names.”

Dean snorted, but it reminded Castiel to speak and she managed to say, “Cas is fine.”

“Cool,” Sam said, still smiling at her.  She was, in all the obvious ways, just as human as Dean.  “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Castiel said.  She’d had no idea she’d be meeting Sam so soon, and her brain was still stumbling a little from the transition.  “Dean has many complimentary things to say about you.”

“Yeah, Dean sings your praises, too,” Sam said.  “If you listen to… her, we’re probably the two most awesome people in the universe.”

“Lies,” Dean interrupted.  

“We’re lucky to have such an advocate,” Castiel said, ignoring her.  “I often suspect that compliments say as much about the giver as they do about the recipient.”

“Kittens, Sam?”  Dean had apparently decided to ignore her in return, and it was a much more effective strategy than interrupting had been.  “Last time it was puppies.  What are you, on some kind of exotic babies kick?”

“Kittens are cute,” Sam said, like this was a reasonable explanation.  “Besides, they like the, uh.  The roombas.”

It caught Castiel’s attention more for what she didn’t say than what she did.  Dean hesitated sometimes, but she rarely filled the space with meaningless sound.  Chiming was as close as the got to works like “uh” or “um,” and Castiel noticed it when Sam used them.

“The roombas?” Dean repeated incredulously.  “What are you doing with roombas?”

“Well, entertaining the kittens, mostly,” Sam said.  That was when Castiel realized that the question she should be asking wasn’t about filler words at all.

“How do you even know what roombas are?” she blurted out.  No one called them roombas anymore, and they certainly didn’t have any in space.  Spaceships had nanites and tiny robots, neither of which appeared on ships in service.  The danger if one of them got out of control or malfunctioned was inestimable, and organic vessels had little use for them.

“A friend of mine has a collection,” Sam said.  “The hacking thing gets a little out of control, but the amount of trouble we avoid with basically everything else is worth it.”

Castiel didn’t know what that meant, but one of the roombas was hovering, and that was distracting enough in its own right.  It had four or five kittens reaching for it, and she didn’t know she was smiling until she felt a hand on her shoulder.  She looked up in time to see Dean glance away.

“Hey,” Dean said, pretending to watch the melee in the grass instead of her.  How the little machines could maneuver outside was still something of a mystery, but they’d clearly been updated over the intervening generations.  “Are you watching the kittens, or the roomba?”

“I’m intrigued by the roomba’s enhanced functionality,” Castiel admitted.  She didn’t want to sound negative, especially when Sam obviously liked them, so she added, “The kittens are also… interesting.”

Dean actually laughed, even as Sam looked bemused.  “Sounds about right,” she said cheerfully.  “Sam, you think you could hook us up with a roomba for Cas?”

“Seriously?”  Sam didn’t look any more enlightened, but she smiled through her shrug.  “You know how many of these things we have zooming around?  I’m pretty sure the puppies and kittens are supposed to keep me from noticing that they’re multiplying.”

“Someone needs a hobby,” Dean said.

“Someone _has_ a hobby,” Sam pointed out.  “The hobby is taking over our life.”

“Keeps her off the streets,” Dean said flippantly.

“Okay, since when is everyone ‘her’?” Sam wanted to know.  “Is this a thing for you now?  We’re all ‘she’ and ‘her’ and ‘sisters’?”

“We’re not all sisters,” Dean said.  She glanced at Cas, then away.  Sam followed every movement, and Castiel was struck by the uncomfortable reminder that Sam understood Dean in a way she never could.

“It’s because of Cas,” Sam said.  “Isn’t it.  You’re trying to be like Cas.”

“Can we not talk about this right now?”  Dean was frowning at her sister.  At her… Sammy.  She hadn’t even introduced her as a sister, though that was how she talked about her now.

Castiel had seen conversations like this play out before, and she knew that “right now” meant “when someone who doesn’t know us is here.”  So she offered, “I can leave, if you want.”  It seemed reasonable to her, even if it wasn’t what she would have chosen.  There was plenty of space, as far as she knew; she wouldn’t be able to hear them if she walked far enough.

“No!”  They both said it at the same time, and Castiel blinked.

“No, Cas, sorry,” Dean said, squeezing her shoulder again.  It felt more like a plea than a reassurance.  “Please stay.”

“I didn’t mean that like a bad thing,” Sam added, though there was uncertainty there if Castiel chose to acknowledge it.  Sam might not have meant it as a bad thing, but she hadn’t meant it as a good thing either.  “I was just, um.  Surprised.  I guess.  Dean doesn’t really…  There’s not a lot of people Dean will bend for.  You know?”

“Yes,” Castiel said.  “I’m aware.”

“Hey,” Dean said.  “I’m not trying to be like anyone.  I’m just using the language.  Humans use gendered pronouns; it’s easy.  I can do that.  What does it matter, anyway?”

The grip she had on Castiel’s shoulder said it mattered very much, and Castiel wanted to ask why.  She didn’t mind Dean being “it.”  She’d known Dean for years without thinking of her as either male or female.

“It’s fine,” Sam said.  “I mean, hey.  I think that’s great.  You should maybe, uh, show Cas around.  Right?”

“Can’t,” Dean said.  “She’s sleeping; we gotta get back.”

“Oh.”  Sam looked disappointed, and Castiel didn’t think it was because of her.  “Can you come back after?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Dean said.  “Hey, we’re gonna be at Elkensin next week.  You want to meet us there?”

“For real?”  Sam brightened.  “Yeah!”

“Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going,” Dean said, giving her a warning look that Castiel didn’t understand.

“Anyone?” Sam repeated.

“Except your –”  Dean waved at the hillside, encompassing all of them and everything they could see.  Castiel assumed she had meant to indicate the roombas and kittens when she finished, “Whatever.  I know futility when I see it.”

Sam smirked at her.  “Dean, you wouldn’t know futility if it walked up and slapped you in the face.  Repeatedly.”

Dean didn’t argue.  “One of my best traits,” she agreed.  “You take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, stepping in to hug her again.  “You too.”

Dean barely let go of Castiel’s shoulder.  She and Sam were so close that Castiel could have put her arms around them herself, and for just a moment she wanted to.  Except they weren’t hers, were they.  They belonged to each other, and she was just lucky Dean liked her enough to bring her along.

“Hang on,” Dean muttered, and Sam lifted her head.  Neither of them stepped back as Dean freed her arm again, Sam letting her go – and Dean reached out to Cas.  “C’mere,” she said.  “C’mon.”

Castiel glanced at Sam, but Dean’s sister just tipped her head.  It was a silent gesture of invitation that made her seem a little closer.  Castiel took a hesitant step forward, and Dean’s arm snaked around her waist and pulled her in tight.  Sam’s hand rested on her back, careful and strange, but Castiel leaned against Dean and she felt Sam’s arm go around her shoulders.  She didn’t know what to do with her own hands, so she just left them where they were.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but something happened.  She heard Dean whisper, “See you, Sam.”  She could still feel the sun on the hillside but the whoosh of wings around her was unmistakable.  Her eyes were open, ships peeling away in the light, glittering with daylight and sound.

“Okay to travel?” Dean murmured in her ear, and it was just them.  Sam had swept away, receding across the sky, and they were flying.  Covering distances she couldn’t name faster than she knew, and still Dean asked.  _Is this okay?_

“This is good,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say.  It was amazing, spectacular, unbelievable.  Something worth living for after all this time.  And it was because of Dean.

“I hope it’s believable,” Dean said.  “It’s not as cool if it’s all a dream, right?”

“Didn’t you say it is?”  Castiel didn’t know how she could talk and travel; the dizzy feeling was all but gone and when she concentrated on Dean, conversation almost felt normal.  “The things that we perceive are real.  Whatever lets us perceive them.”

“You’re not hallucinating,” Dean told her.  “I can see we’re gonna have to do this again.”

Yes, Castiel thought.  They should do it again right now.

“We’re still doing it,” Dean said, and she sounded amused.  “We can’t do it again until we stop.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Castiel said.  Everything felt so far away: not just the shell and the crew, but the hammock and the kissing and even meeting Sam.  She was flying with Dean, and she thought that if it went on forever the only thing she’d regret was that they couldn’t technically do it “again.”

“I’m with you,” Dean agreed, and Castiel was only now starting to understand that Dean’s use of language wasn’t an affectation.  It was a true representation of the way she spoke.  “But I’m pretty sure you’ll want your body again at some point, so let’s go make sure we’re both still alive.”

“You can’t tell?” Castiel asked, more curious than alarmed.

“I can tell,” Dean said.  “But some things you gotta see for yourself.”

When she said “some things,” it turned out she meant more than just them.  They returned the same way they left, which made Castiel wonder if it had been more than a matter of easing her into an altered state.  The wind and the colors and the streaming light, settling back into a familiar pattern of stars and sky, lying on her back and staring up at it as the ceiling started to creep in around the edges when she blinked… what if those were just symbols?  Like the words Dean used, like her human appearance: what if they represented some objective reality in a way that she could process?

 _Hi,_ Dean said.  She wasn’t sitting next to Castiel anymore, and Castiel sighed before she realized she was doing it.  _How do you feel?_

“Like I miss you,” Castiel said aloud, and her voice broke on the rough edges.  It sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet room, softly glowing walls and a ceiling that separated the shell’s atmosphere from the vacuum of space.  _How do you feel?_ she wondered.

 _Pretty much the same,_ Dean said.  But the floor was warm under her skin and she could feel Dean’s glee bursting through the blue of her skin.  _That was awesome.  We’re so going again.  Not now,_ she added, and Castiel knew that the sparkles were because of her.

 _Tomorrow?_ she asked.

 _Yeah,_ Dean said.  _If it didn’t screw up your sleep.  You still have a couple hours, by the way.  I can make your dreams more normal this time.  If you want._

“Cas,” Anna’s voice said sleepily.  “Why is there a robot on the floor?”

Castiel blinked, letting her head tip in Anna’s direction.  Instead of seeing Anna, though, her eyes struggled to focus on something much closer.  It was the word “robot” that made it come clear: a roomba was snuggled up to the edge of her blanket, unmoving but blinking quietly.

 _Dean?_ she asked.  _How did the roomba get here?_

 _You said you wanted one,_ Dean replied.  Like that answered the question.  _Sort of, anyway.  I brought it back for you?_

And that, she suspected, was the end of the story.  She wasn’t tired, but she did feel sleepy.  Everything was just calm enough that she couldn’t bring herself to push.  “Dean gave it to me,” Castiel said aloud.

“Okay,” Anna said after a moment.  “I’m hoping that makes more sense in the morning.”

“I doubt it,” Castiel murmured, turning her head to shrug into the pillow.  She felt Dean’s fondness through the skin of the ship, and nothing else mattered as much as that.

“Uh-huh,” Anna said, sentence breaking for a yawn.  “That’s what I figured.”

There was nothing else, then, and Castiel felt her eyes closing.  Dean was there beside her again, but she was lying down, pressing into Castiel’s arms and holding her warm and safe.  She might have said something about kittens, or dragons, or ship security for all the words mattered right now.

That there were words was enough, and Castiel fell asleep to the whisper of Dean’s voice in her ear.


End file.
